


If You're Ever in the East

by OutcastDeity



Series: VGA Verse [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: 520 Day | Edward Elric/Roy Mustang Day, Adult Edward Elric, Bottom Roy Mustang, Daddy!Edward, Elric Children - Freeform, Everyone swears, General Roy Mustang, M/M, Multi, OCs used as bad guys, Past Ed/Winry, Professor Edward Elric, Sequel, Uncle Al - Freeform, royed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2020-06-28 06:13:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 92,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutcastDeity/pseuds/OutcastDeity
Summary: Three and a half years after Edward left, Roy finds himself transferred to East City.





	1. Welcome to the East

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the sequel to Conversations over Coffee. It's got a slightly different style, the chapters are shorter (but there's more of them!) and it should build on events that happened in the first story. 
> 
> The plan is to update weekly. I'll update the tags later...

For his fortieth birthday, Roy received a promotion and relocation papers. There were jokes around the office about being the Fuhrer's favourite; that Grumman would personally come into the West Wing of Central command and deliver them himself, simply because it was Roy's birthday – and fortunately for Roy, who was likely to become to but of even more jokes should his team know the truth of it, none of them knew how on the nose they were.

"Happy birthday, dear boy." The Fuhrer greeted as he hobbled into the office, leaning heavily on a stick but with his usual sly smile in place.

his hair had grown whiter in the last couple of years, and his glasses even thicker, and recently he hadn't been seen without the aide of a walking stick. People were beginning to become uneasy with how frail their head of state had become. Roy glanced at the papers in his hand as the ageing Fuhrer shuffled across the room to him, and stood from behind his desk, standing to attention and saluting. The papers were purely ceremonial; everything else for his transfer had been handled by Hawkeye months ago, but Grumman had wanted some pizazz, and no-one was in the habit of denying their head of state his few wants and requests. The man smiled his all-knowing smile and placed the file down on Mustang's desk, looking pleased that Roy had still stood and saluted, as if one day his favourite General might not do that.

"Thank you, sir." Roy replied, feeling a little ridiculous.

Forty was not an age he had been particularly looking forward to, and he didn't entirely enjoy the idea of the whole office knowing he was reaching a mile-stone. Still, if the packed boxes at his house were anything to live by, he wouldn't be around in Central long enough to have to deal with everyone teasing him for his age, and word hadn't yet spread to the rest of the office that he had reached another multiple of ten. Freya was probably loading them all into the moving van as he was speaking, and whilst most people would baulk at the idea of moving house on their birthday, Roy couldn't think of a better way to celebrate.

"Just sign there then, lad." The Fuhrer commanded, pointing a bony finger at an underlined section of the forms, and Roy dropped his salute to pick up his pen and autograph it. The pen should have felt weird under the scratchy material of his gloves, but he'd grown used to it over the years. "I've sorted out the transfer papers for the team you requested, as well." Grumman added, and Roy couldn't even be annoyed at him for taking the credit for something his granddaughter had personally overseen.

He was glad, at the very least, that Grumman had once more allowed him to hand-pick his team. Especially since the last time Roy had taken that request to Grumman it had been because he thought his chosen team were the best fit for overthrowing the Government and uprooting the Fuhrer. This time, of course, he had no want to do that. There was a general feeling amongst the public that they would be expecting the succession of a new head of state in months, rather than years, anyway – and for the first time in his life Roy was dreading that coming to pass. In his idle moments he found himself thinking that he could do with just a few more years of Grumman staying healthy enough to oversee the country – just a few more years to get his act together, to come up with a more concrete plan and enjoy being Roy Mustang, before he was shoved into another political bid.

He thanked the man again.

"I assume that wife of yours is spoiling you rotten later." Grumman asked, making the General wince.

"Not my wife." He reminded, which he had also grown used to having to say in the last couple of years.

Freya was certainly wife material. They had been dating for the last three years, and she had moved in with him two years ago, but Roy had never dropped down to one knee – despite pressures from all of his friends and colleagues, and her slightly overbearing parents. He couldn't explain to Grumman, however, that his relationship with Freya was barely past platonic, and the idea of marrying her sent tremors of regret running through his entire body.

"Well, just a few more things to get done here, and then you can be on your way. Captain Havoc has assured me he's getting the office all set up for you there, and that your team can't wait for your arrival."

Roy nodded his head at that, and waved jovially as Grumman made his excuses ( _oh, it's a very busy job being the fuhrer, papers to sign, babies to kiss and all that – you'll know all this one day Mustang, my boy!_ ) and walked back out the office with Roy's newly signed transfer papers in his curled hands. Roy watched him go and took a deep breath, and then allowed himself a brief look around the office he'd been in for the last seven years, and wondered just how much of a step up his latest promotion would be. He had gone from the Lieutenant-General rank he had achieved three and a half years ago (a pity promotion if ever there was one, trying to quell the anger they had expected of Roy after his court-case, but Roy would take what was handed to him), to that of General, the highest rank one could assume in the army without being the Fuhrer himself, a few days ago. Alongside that raise in rank had been the transfer to a new city, a new job, and new responsibilities. He'd be overseeing the entirety of Eastern Command, and be reporting directly to Grumman. It had been a gruelling forty-two months, and he was excited to see the culmination of it.

He wondered, not for the first time, if he should write to Ed.

He'd been avoiding doing so. They had exchanged a few letters a year over the years since Edward had left to return to East City and set up his life properly there, and Roy logically knew that big news like this meant he should be letting the other man know, but there was something stopping him. Every time he put pen to paper he couldn't find the words, and ended up screwing up the letter and snapping his fingers to burn the evidence of his attempt. Because three and a half years ago when Ed had hopped on a train to East City, they had promised each other that if Roy ever got relocated to the East then they would make a real try of dating. But then less than a year later, over pressures of trying to quell his public image to something mundane, Roy had met Freya.

Freya was perfect for rehabilitating his image, and he wasn't ashamed to admit he had originally only dated her to be seen with an unassuming, solid woman. She wore grey, floor-length skirts and turtle necks and had a neat, no-nonsense bob in a no-nonsense shade of brown, and had a steady job working as a primary school teacher and Makaton Sign tutor, so she was exactly the kind of woman you would bring home to your mother and ask to marry. Except Roy would never take her to his Aunt Chris, because Chris would take one look at her and probably make her cry, and he still hadn't popped the question. He hadn't broken up with her either. Originally it was because she was good for his image, and he assumed one day he would do exactly as Hawkeye advised and settle down with her, but then, from their falsified relationship grew a friendship.

And that's what they had, a friendship. He adored Freya for her gentle, kind nature and the way she always had dinner on the table when he got home, and she would tell him anecdotes about children in her class and not make him relive his usually very stressful day, but he didn't love her. He didn't even make love to her. They'd stopped that after a year of some rather awkward sex that had left both of them very unsatisfied. Roy had asked her once, why she didn't leave him – why she put up with a sexless relationship and how sometimes he was grumpy and mean to her, and she had just smiled and picked up their cat for a cuddle, because they didn't do much physical contact with each-other, and told him that she loved him. So he'd taken her out for a nice meal the next day and tried really hard to romance her and felt incredibly guilty because no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't make himself love her back.

That had been eight months ago, and now Freya was loading up the moving truck on his behalf, and, like the Fuhrer had suggested, probably planning a birthday surprise for that evening that would leave him dumbstruck with how thoughtful she could be.

And so he hadn't written to Ed, because even though sometimes he still woke up from dreams of rekindling that one night of passion he'd shared with the younger man, it wasn't fair on Freya to actually make something of it. He would move to East City because that was what his job demanded, and Edward might one day find out through word on the street that he was there, and would know that Roy had gone back on their promise because he would have been there for awhile and not sought Ed out. He would spend his days doing his job, his evenings with Freya, and pretend to be happy, without contacting the ray of sunshine that had left his life three and half years prior. It was as simple as that. It didn't matter that every time he thought about that familiar blonde head of hair, or received a letter in Fullmetal's familiar scrawl, his heart skipped a beat. Three and a half years had dulled his pining for Ed somewhat, and he was sure that with continued discipline over the subject of Edward Elric he would one day be able to hear the boy's name without breaking out in a sweat.

He collected the last vestiges from his desk and placed them in the ceremonial card-board box, and then jogged that into his arms and walked around into the main office, where Gyasi was chatting amicably with Weir. Roy had decided to leave both of them in Central, because Gyasi had recently found a partner and had been looking at wedding magazines, and because Weir was a good man to have a connection with in the Capital. Hawkeye was leaning against one of the desks, her hair down and wearing a red jumper over a tartan shirt, she looked incredibly casual for her status as a Major. She crinkled her nose at him as he joined her with his box. The blonde and red had his heart clenching painfully in his chest, but he pushed it to one side. Forty-two months, he reminded himself, with a handful of letters as his only correspondence – he should be over the combination of blonde and red by now.

He would be driving to East City early, with Riza at his side, so that he could set up properly in the new office and assert some authority around his new command centre, and Freya would meet them there that evening, with the moving truck and the muscles that would put their things in order in their new house. Roy was glad he would be driving the hours with Riza instead of his unassuming girlfriend, on a basis of there would likely be more to talk about – and then instantly felt guilty for feeling that way.

"Ready?" Hawkeye asked, rolling her shoulder back, and Roy nodded his head, and jostled his box into one hand to give a semi-formal salute to the two remaining members in the office.

"It's been a pleasure working with you." He told them.

It wasn't entirely a lie, they had had fun times – but Gyasi had all but stopped talking to him after the article came out about his date with Edward all those years ago, and Weir still clammed up whenever someone mentioned gay rights. Now, however, they both saluted him back and gave him pleasantries, sending him off on his way to his new life in Eastern Command. He supposed that they wouldn't want to part on bad terms – he was pretty much next in line for Fuhrership, after all.

He followed Riza out into the hall, down the stairs and towards the parking garage, where she'd parked a sleek black car with a metal grate in a prime location. He placed his office knick-knacks in the boot, amongst the overnight bag he'd packed and placed there that morning. He debated taking his gloves off and placing them there as well, but the thought of it had a lump forming in his throat, and he decided against it. It was a frosty November, so if anyone took him up on it he could tell them he was wearing them for the warmth. He knew, logically, no one was going to bring him up on it any more. He frowned at the boot, then slammed it closed and then joined her in the front, settling down in the passenger seat whilst she set up her mirrors.

"Forty and still can't drive." She sighed at him.

It would sting if it wasn't a yearly joke. Technically Roy could drive – he had a license, but people had mostly stopped trusting him behind the wheel the third time he'd wrapped his car around a lamppost, and it was generally safer for everyone if he employed other people to chauffeur him.

"That's why I have such good subordinates." He teased back.

She shot him a look, but she had put the car in reverse and their journey had begun, so her non-verbal teasing would have to wait for the hours it took to get to East City. Instead, she informed him on what he would be walking in to in Eastern Command, where Riza had been sorting out the transfer of his preferred team.

"Fallman arrived two days ago from Briggs, he says it's nice to be warm again. Fuery has already got the communications team wrapped around his little finger. Breda and Havoc are simply delighted to be on the same team again, and I would remind you once more that I advised against putting them together." She told him.

Roy grinned at the view outside the wind-shield, watching the dreary grey roads of Central whiz by him. Most people would be annoyed about being transferred back out to a wasteland like East City, but this particular transfer came with a huge promotion and solidified his bid for Fuhrer, so he couldn't complain. He couldn't wait to have his old team back again, and reminded himself that they had all been stationed in the East last time they were all together, before Bradley deliberately split them all up. He also reminded himself that Grumman had come into his Fuhrership from overseeing Eastern Command, and the thought of it had his stomach doing odd little cartwheels.

"Let them have their fun for a few days." He replied, "they'll soon realise that running a command centre wont leave them much time for office shenanigans."

"Yessir." Riza replied, eyes on the road. "Shall we talk about your public image?"

Roy could feel his excitement over the move dissipating quickly at her words. He shook his head, but she wasn't looking at him.

"I'd rather play Marry-Fuck-Kill." He told her, hoping falling back on their old stupid games would placate her. She shot him a quick, considering look, and he gave her a cheeky smile. "Humour me, it's my birthday." He said, which would only ever work once a year so he had to make use of it whilst he could.

Riza sighed, but nodded her head, looking out on to the Central streets as she drove and thought. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and chewed on her lips as she considered her options, and Roy marvelled that she felt comfortable enough around him to let him know her tells.

"Okay." She finally relented. "Me, Freya, and Edward Elric."

Roy winced from the second she had said the word 'me', but his stomach plummeted dramatically at her last suggestion. That was entirely unfair; he'd been looking for a way to deflect a discussion on his public image, and Riza had found a way to make them discuss it anyway, the sly witch.

"I'd kill you." He said in a heartbeat, although they both knew it wasn't true. She took her hand off the wheel to show him her middle finger anyway. "Then… I'd marry Freya, obviously."

"Which leaves you fucking Edward."

This is what they'd done three and half years ago, Roy remembered, the night Edward Elric had turned up in his life after six years like a god-damned tornado, and been put on his protection team when there had been a threat on his life. Roy had gone to Riza's for their weekly wine and chat, and Riza had niggled him into confessing that he would fuck his what felt like barely legal ex-subordinate. Now they were heading East, to a city where Edward lived with his family, and Riza seemed to once more be cajoling him into admitting his attraction for the boy. Forty-two months later and Roy wished he could tell her he was entirely over the Xerxian bombshell, but unfortunately he still woke from dreams of blonde hair and golden eyes that looked at him like he was deconstructing the matter of his clothing in his mind.

"I'd marry Freya." He repeated, trying to bring the Major back to the good things he was doing for his image.

He wondered, more often that not, why he hadn't just asked Riza to marry him. His relationship with Riza was probably more sex-charged than his relationship with Freya, and Hawkeye could hold her own more. She was, objectively, more Roy's type, and Hawkeye might even have some child-baring years left in her. Freya was forty-two and had admitted early on in their relationship that she couldn't have kids. The thing was, if he asked Riza would probably feel obligated to say yes, and Roy wouldn't know what to do with that.

"You haven't though." The Major commented. "People have noticed."

Roy rolled his eyes out the passenger door window. People noticed everything. People noticed if he hadn't cut his hair in a while, or if he forgot his pocket-watch one day. People noticed if he hadn't slept from the bags under his eyes. People noticed if he worked late at the office. His entire life was a litany of other people noticing things about him and drawing conclusions based off of little to no real evidence. His views on the subject mostly got summed up with the words 'screw people', and Riza knew it.

"We're as good as married anyway." He lied. They lived together, but he knew there was a lot more to a marriage than sleeping on opposite sides of the bed with the cat purring contentedly between them.

"Remember when the public thought she was a witch who'd put a spell on you?"

Roy remembered. When they first started dating the journalists were still obsessed with playboy Mustang, who fucked anything with a pulse and who had taken a few months out of the dating scene to nurse his broken heart after Edward Elric had chosen his children over him. They hadn't been entirely wrong. They had looked at plain, monochrome, no-nonsense Freya and run story after story that she wasn't pretty enough, or smart enough, or anything-enough for Mustang, and that he would soon grow tired of her. When he didn't, they accused her of voodoo and witch-craft.

"That was cruel." He sighed. Hawkeye nodded.

"They thought she was taking advantage of you or something." She elaborated, "but now she's packing up your flat and moving the both of you to East City, where she's moving away from her family and friends and she has to find a new job – and people's opinions are swaying. Now you're the one being shown in a bad light."

Roy ran a hand through his hair, and then flattened it back down because underneath his top layer there was a couple of greys springing up in badger stripes around his ears.

"Couples relocate all the time and every time one of them is going to come off worse." He supplied. Hawkeye nodded again, and it occurred to Roy that she was going for agreeable, trying not to work him up too much.

"But usually they're committed. People think you're scared of commitment, and that's why Freya isn't your wife." She explained. "Now, it's your turn for M – F – K."

Roy cursed under his breath as they left Central behind and headed East. He really needed to stop playing M – F – K with Riza, because there was actually a very obvious reason as to why Freya wasn't his wife, and he hated that his most loyal subordinate could see right through him.

* * *

"All the spots have cleared up completely, so I was thinking maybe I could bring them both over to yours soon – you know, give Mei an idea of what to expect when the baby comes along."

Alphonse's laughter on the other end of the phone was, and always had been, even when marred by the tinny metal of the armour Al had been trapped in for so long, music to Ed's ears. He could imagine his brother rubbing a hand over the back of his neck and up through his harvest gold hair in fond pride in how very pregnant his girlfriend was, and he kicked up his feet on to the desk in his study and grinned at the ceiling as he imagined it. He hadn't seen Al in weeks, thanks to the children coming down with chicken-pox, and all three of them were missing having Uncle Al around.

"Sounds great, brother. Just let me know when." He replied, and Ed made a mental note to check his diary, even though he knew making mental notes almost always lead to him forgetting. "I assume it will just be yourself, since you haven't mentioned Gretel since last Friday."

Ed's easy going grin slowly formed into a frown, staring at the swirls and jumps in the ceiling plaster, as Alphonse mentioned the latest in the string of unsuccessful dates. Gretel had been promising on paper – a fellow science professor at the university, only twenty-seven, and well-travelled. She was pretty to look at as well, with long dark hair and creamy skin, but when they'd gone for a drink whilst Sasha and Maesie were at Winry's, it had become clear quite quickly that they wouldn't be going on a second date. She had a five year old kid, which Ed knew shouldn't be a deal breaker considering he had two children of his own, but kind of was. Besides, she had beautiful dark eyes that looked at him across the bar-table as she explained a complex theory on the nature of time, and Ed couldn't help but be reminded of another dark-haired, dark-eyed, pale-skinned beauty, and he'd ended up cutting the date short in a bout of guilt.

Which was ridiculous, because he had absolutely nothing to feel guilty for. He also couldn't say as much to Alphonse, who would make disapproving sounds if he even had an inkling that the reason Ed wouldn't be seeing Gretel a second time was because of a stupid promise he'd made three and half years ago.

"She's got a kid." He said instead, and Al made a semi-understanding 'ah' sound. He was probably making a face like a frog as he thought of how to phrase his next sentence. Ed mouthed along to his next words, feeling vindicated that his brother was so predictable.

"Would that really be so bad?"

Ed rolled his eyes, yup, so predictable.

"It is." He insisted. "With… with Maesie." He cut himself off as his tone wobbled dangerously, quickly putting a hand over the receiver in case this ended with him sobbing loudly, and took a few deep breaths to waive off the worst of the now-familiar lump that formed in his throat. "I just… I just need to focus my efforts on her. I can't get distracted trying to form a bond with someone else's kid."

He had almost confessed that he had enough trouble trying to form a bond with his own kids, but it wouldn't do to scare Al like that three months before Mei was due to pop out their first-born. There was a non-committing grunt on the other end of the line, and Ed took his feet off the desk and sat up, looking through all the papers he still had to mark. The one on top was mostly covered in red already, but Ed was only half-way through with his corrections. He was already exhausted. He slipped a hand underneath his glasses to rub at his eyes, and then corrected the frames on his nose once he felt he had successfully dislodged the tiredness from his face.

"Daddy, Maesie's eating dog biscuits!"

Ed glanced towards the slightly ajar door to the study, and sighed, counting to three in his head. He placed the paper he had been glancing over back down on top of the pile and readjusted the phone on his shoulder.

"Look, Al, I gotta go. I'll get back to you with dates." He promised, hanging up just as Sasha called up the stairs again.

"Daddy!"

He made his way out into the landing, and leaned over the bannister, where he could see Sasha at the bottom of the stairs, looking more and more like Ed every day. If he ever grew out his hair then the both of them would be Hohenheim clones (which would be funny if Hohenheim hadn't actually been cloned). He was staring up at the landing with his arms crossed and a serious frown on his little face, and Ed was vividly reminded of himself at that age, where everything was the matter between life or death, or worse – _boredom_.

"How does she even have dog biscuits?" He asked, because as far as he knew, they didn't have a dog, and one had never been in the house.

He jogged down the stairs and followed Sasha into the kitchen, where, true to word, Maesie was on the floor, happily munching on bone-shaped wheat biscuits. Ed didn't imagine there was anything in them that could seriously harm her, and he had probably eaten far worse as a child, but he still couldn't see how she didn't stop on account of taste. He snatched them away from his daughter, sighing loudly.

"No." He told her firmly. "These are for dogs, they're bad for you!"

Maesie simply frowned at him, looking as if she might well up, and then crossed her arms and looked away, which was almost worse than tears. He waved the sandwich bag she had been munching on in Sasha's direction, ready to repeat his question, but Sasha answered it before he had to.

"Mum's got us a puppy for when we're at hers."

Ed rolled his eyes, and then felt bad for rolling his eyes over something Winry had done in front of her children, and so smiled and shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal. It wasn't a competition, he told himself, which was good – because there was no way he could compete with a puppy.

Since the finalisation of their divorce three and half years ago, and his requisition of a steady, part-time, well paid job at East City University, the children had been living with him by court order. He had only been fighting for visitation rights, but the court had ruled Winry's work schedule to be too demanding and in need of her being fully flexible. According to the judge she couldn't be fully flexible for auto-mail surgery and for two needy children – but Ed could work part-time lecturing and still raise two kids, and so the duty of raising them had fallen to him, with visits every Saturday to their mother, and an overnight stay every other Friday. Ed wasn't complaining, but he had felt guilty about the outcome.

Winry hadn't spoken to him for a while, but they were building up a tentative friendship again now, and Edward wouldn't fuck it all up over a puppy.

"Both of you should be in bed." He grumbled, checking his watch. Both children looked suitably scandalised by the idea.

Maesie made an odd high-pitched yelping sound, turning her body back to Ed's, and then when Ed frowned at her she made the yelping sound again.

"I don't understand, where's your book?" Ed asked her, feeling suddenly exhausted. She screwed up her little face and pouted at him, and made another high-pitched sound, only this time it sounded angry.

"She wants to go to the park." Sasha informed him happily, and Ed glanced across to his son with a slightly exasperated expression, never truly understanding how Sasha seemed to understand Maesie's noises and inflections as if she was speaking perfect Amestrian. He nodded to the boy and then turned back to Maesie and crossed his arms over his chest. As he did so he realised where she had picked up the habit of crossing her arms and so quickly uncrossed his.

"It's almost eight-thirty, you can't go to the park." He told her.

Maesie screwed up her face, puffing out her cheeks, and made the high-pitched angry sound again, like a demented harrumph, Ed would call it, although he'd never say as much out loud.

"It's a school night." Edward told her, then remembered he was supposed to be using short, simple words to encourage her pronunciation, according to the Speech Therapist, despite the fact that Maesie understood him just fine even when he began waffling about theoretical alchemy. "Bed time."

She yelped again, face turning red from the concentrated effort of holding her breath in anguish, and her nostrils flared angrily.

Ed stared at her, and she stared right back, and Ed knew from experience that he wasn't going to win a battle of wills. He thought about the papers he still had to grade for the morning, and how if he started an argument with his youngest now he'd probably end up screaming nonsense at her until three in the morning, with the six year old sobbing uncontrollably. On the other hand, if he took them to the park they would run around for half an hour, wear themselves out and be snuggled up tight by nine-fifteen, and then he could get back to marking. Plus, it might make her forget that he had stolen her dog biscuits and had not bought her a puppy.

He could totally do this parenting thing.

"Fine," He relented. "Let's go find your coats."

Maesie instantly drew in a breath and sprinted off to find her coat, so Ed counted it as a win. Sasha looked at his dad for a long moment, and then, to Ed's utter astonishment, rolled his eyes.

"Push-over." He said in a tone of exasperation, before trailing off after his sister to find his own coat. Ed watched him go with his mouth hanging open, wondering when he'd become so soft as to take that kind of shit from a seven year old.

By the time he'd dragged himself to the front door his children were, for the first time in their lives, ready to go. Maesie was wearing her light-pink parka and some matching high-tops with white laces that she had tied herself and were a little skewed and Sasha had opted for some heavy black boots that reminded Edward of some he had owned in his childhood, and a pillar-box red winter coat.

Edward shrugged his battered old trainers on, slipped his old cream hoody over his shoulders and shoved his keys into his pocket. He opened the front door and caught both Sasha and Maesie's hands in his own as he walked them down the street to a small, fenced-in playground surrounded on all four sides by a measly patch of green and overlooked by houses in all directions. If any of the neighbours looked out and saw him taking his six and seven year old to the swings at half eight in the evening on a Tuesday, he would never hear the end of it at the school gates the next day.

He opened the gate and let his kids rush in, Sasha going straight for the slide and Maesie opting instead for the swings. Edward briefly wondered if rapidly rushing through the air directly after eating an indeterminate amount of dog biscuits would be good for her, but then decided that if she threw up it would only be dog biscuits and it was probably best to get them out of her system. He picked her up under the arms and walked around to the other side to that he could see Sasha on the slide before depositing her on the swing and getting her to hold on tight.

"Ready?" He asked. Maesie nodded. She could swing herself, in all honesty, and usually did, but Ed was hanging on to the last dregs of her baby-identity by insisting that he still push her.

Whilst he did he looked around the park, clocked Sasha running up the steps for another go on the slide, and glanced around the houses framing it on all sides. Most people had their curtains shut by that time, readying themselves down for a cold evening, but one house had the door wide open and a moving truck parked outside. Edward had been watching the house for a while, the way nosy neighbours do whenever a house in the area goes up for sale, and had noticed when a few weeks prior the sign outside had swapped from 'for sale' to 'sold'. Now every light in the house was on and there was a woman in a grey skirt and a cream turtle-neck carrying box after box through the front door with an assortment of muscled men helping her.

Then, as Ed watched, out from the front door came a new person – a man with dark hair and pale skin. He had slim shoulders and was wearing a white shirt with familiar blue trousers. Then he turned and grabbed a box from the truck, and Ed saw his face and forgot to catch the swing as Maesie came hurtling back towards him, and so was struck with the full force of the swing and his six year old daughter. Immediately, he fell flat on his ass.

"Daddy!" Sasha yelped, coming down the slide and rushing towards him. Maesie was still propelling backwards and forwards wildly, and so Ed rolled to the side, grabbed his son with his hands under the boys shoulders and swung him around so that he was out of the way of the swing. Sasha cupped Ed's face in his little hands and stared at him with concern, very far gone from the utter disdain he'd shown in the kitchen. "Are you okay?"

Maesie stilled the swing by herself and hopped down. Ed had knelt down with Sasha out of harms way of the pendulum motion of the swing, and Maesie ran over to him and put her hand on his shoulder, and then rested her forehead there. Edward wrapped his arms around them both and pulled them in for a group hug, revelling in their warmth and willingness to be held.

"Daddy's fine." He told them, just as the park gate swung open with an un-oiled creak, and their new neighbours came rushing at them.

"Are you okay? I saw you go flying." The man said, and then, as Edward looked up, the man registered who he was talking to and he took a big breath in and his breathing seemed to stop. Ed's did too, all the while cursing himself for his reaction. He let go of his children and stood so that at the very least he wasn't having to look up at his new neighbour.

"Roy." He greeted, and watched with something akin to victory as the other man clammed up and rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly.

He was wearing his gloves, Ed noticed, which he thought was a little odd for the time of night, but didn't give it too much thought since he had no idea what was currently going on in the man's life. Besides, Roy was still half in his uniform, so clearly hadn't been home all that long. He tried to discretely check the man out without it being obvious that he was. Roy was, as ever, ridiculously attractive, with his pale skin and dark eye-lashes and lean body. The last time Edward had actually seen him he'd still had the dredges of a bruise over his eye and a ghastly gunshot wound on his right shoulder. Now his face was back to it's former glory, and despite idly daydreaming about the man every time he'd received a chatty letter from him in the last three and half years, his imagination hadn't done the General justice. He suddenly felt very conscious of his beaten up trainers, of the wire frames on his nose, and the fact that his hair was a tangled mess, falling down his back. He tucked a strand behind his ear, and then felt stupid for doing it, and then felt more stupid for considering putting it back in front of his ear. He could at least blame any weird flush on his cheeks on the cold October weather.

Roy had moved out East. Roy had moved out East, and that information hadn't come to him in a letter – or at all – and that meant Roy was no longer interested in Ed, so Ed needed to get his flared up hormones under control. He glanced across at the lady in the grey skirt that had entered the park with Roy meaningfully, and the dark-haired man breathed out through his nose and then put an awkward hand on the woman's shoulder.

"Edward, this is Freya… Freya, Edward."

Freya put her hand out for a shake, and Edward took it numbly. There had been no additional information in that introduction, which told Edward two things – Freya was most likely Roy's girlfriend (not his wife, there wasn't a ring) and that Roy was feeling awkward about it. Ed remembered their promise from four years earlier, and suddenly felt very much on the back foot – because they had been exchanging a few letters a year since they'd last been in the same city, and Roy had never once mentioned having a significant other.

"Nice to meet you." He said to the grey-skirted lady, trying to sound polite and friendly, which he had a fair amount of practise with, being the only single dad at the school gates, and then, because Sasha was tugging on his jumper, "These are my children, Sasha and Maesie."

Sasha stuck out his hand for a handshake as well, which made Edward smirk, but Freya simply took it no problem and gave it a firm shake, bending down a little to be on his level. Maesie hid a little further behind Ed's leg. Edward kept his eyes on Roy, and the other man looked awkward and flushed by his scrutiny.

"Just moved here, huh?" He asked, and Roy nodded his head, looking anywhere but at Ed.

"I was going to write, let you know." He said, and it was such an obvious lie that Edward almost felt sorry for him. The blonde shrugged his shoulders in a move he hoped looked casual, and didn't miss how Roy's eyes honed in on the movement. Some things, it seemed, never changed. That at least had Ed feeling a bit better, knowing that at least to some degree, despite Roy clearly now being in a relationship, he was still, in a very real sense, attracted to Ed's muscles.

Ed hoped it wasn't showing on his face how glad he was that he'd never stopped his rigorous daily work-outs. Which had only become more difficult to fit in once the kids had come to live with him full-time, but at least doing push-ups with his daughter lying underneath him and kissing her tummy every time he lowered himself down made her giggle.

She wasn't giggling now though, and instead peeked out from behind his leg and pulled on his trousers material. She mumbled something intelligible and nuzzled her nose into the back of his leg, which would have been cute if she didn't have a mild cold and as such was currently running thick yellow snot from her nose, which was probably now smeared across the back of Ed's leg. He nodded, patting her head.

"Yeah, we'll go home." He told her, although he had no idea if that was what her mumbling had meant. He did know, however, that since starting school Maesie had become a painfully shy child and hated meeting new people, so she was likely wanting to escape a run-in with their new neighbours. "It's bed time."

He expected her to kick up a fuss about bed time, but she just snuggled further down into his trouser leg, and so he was forced to bend down and pick her up. The crick in his back as he did so reminded him that she wasn't tiny any more, and he wasn't a teenager any more either.

"Nice to meet you." He repeated to Freya, and shot Roy a look he hoped came across as nonchalant. "Welcome to the East."


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She doesn't speak?" Freya asked, trailing a little behind him, and Ed shook his head.
> 
> "She doesn't have words." Sasha happily informed her

Havoc and Breda were, apparently, having the time of their lives. They'd already played desktop football, desktop basketball, desktop hockey, and desktop 'who can hit Fuery in the back of the head with wads of paper the most before the tech-dork gets irate', and now they had moved on to desktop tennis. It was 30-love to Breda when Roy walked in and Havoc dropped his home-made paper racket and pretended to look busy. He'd call it a draw later and Breda would bitch about it, but usually it was worth it to see the heavy-set man throw a fit, and Roy didn't want to come in and start throwing his weight around when Havoc had been doing a fairly good job of running things whilst Roy sorted out his move, so he let their office shenanigans slide.

"Sir." Havoc greeted, shooting up a lazy salute and making a show of slightly raising from his chair.

Breda snorted in amusement beside him as Roy adopted a mortified expression over Havoc's formalities and made an odd aborted gesture in an attempt to get Jean to sit back down. Breda didn't even pretend to salute himself, and Roy figured respect had never exactly been the man's strong point, which suited Roy just fine, considering he always felt awkward in receipt of salutes from people he considered his friends.

It was Wednesday morning and, in the absence of Major Hawkeye, Havoc was supposed to be looking after the office and making sure things were running smoothly. All things considered Roy had been told Havoc had been doing a fairly good job of it whilst Riza was still in Central holding down the fort with Roy, but it seemed Havoc had been taking a little bit of down-time before Hawkeye got there that morning to remind the team he wasn't a total hard-ass. The Major was due to arrive at the office in half an hours time, and true to form she wouldn't be a minute late, or a moment early. Mustang, however, was at least three hours early – having booked the morning off after his move to settle himself and Freya into their new home. Things in the new house had been awkward since the night before, when they had got back in from the jaunt to the park their house overlooked, however, so he had made the decision to leave her at home and run away to the office.

It was probably a sign that his relationship was failing that he didn't even feel that guilty about leaving her to sort the unpacking by herself. He told himself she would probably prefer it that way. She often shooed him away, telling him he was in the way, whenever he tried to make decisions around the home. When it came to the house Freya's rule was absolute. He wouldn't mind so much if she didn't have a penchant for chintz, but since she did it was usually best he steer clear to avoid the arguments.

"Trouble in paradise?" Breda teased, and Mustang shot him a wary look that was more than enough to answer the question in the affirmative.

Roy remembered a time when he had a perfect mask of blank faces for occasions such as these, and lamented the disappearance of his youth, and with it his poker-face. His relationship had never exactly been paradise, and Breda knew it, but at least Freya was a wonderful conversationalist, and Roy hated it when they weren't talking – as was the sorry state of his affairs since the evening prior.

"Captain, my office, if you please." The General sighed, and waved Havoc up from his desk and towards where he had a connected office towards the back of the larger room.

Havoc stood slowly, probably wondering if he was going to get chewed out for the wads of paper surrounding Fuery's desk, or whether he was about to get the juicy gossip Roy sometimes let him in on. Usually during the times when Roy was having serious lacks of judgement. He slid into the office and physically relaxed when Roy waved him into at ease, and then gestured to one of the large fabric sofas dominating most of the office. They weren't the same ones as in Central, and in a bout of stupidity Roy had allowed Freya to pick out the new ones for his new office. What she had picked were some rather chintz heather-based, floral-patterned seating, with a lace fan covering the feet. He frowned at them as Havoc sat on one, looking awkward himself.

"I should probably remind Freya I'm a General." He told himself, not realising he was speaking out loud until Havoc gave a bark-like laugh and Roy was looking at his most trusted Captain who had laughter in his crinkled eyes. He sighed.

"Maybe you could furnish your own office instead." The Captain suggested, and Roy poked his tongue out at him childishly, thinking vindictively that Havoc wouldn't understand the finer points of navigating a long-term relationship. He then sank down into the chair behind his desk, this one thankfully a respectable black and with no lace, resting his elbows on the desktop, and placed his head in his hands, covering his eyes as if he had a headache.

"Remind me, Captain." He began, "When I assigned you here did I, or did I not, tell you your time in Investigations would serve you well, and that it would benefit me if you could do a sweep of the neighbourhood Freya had chosen to move to?"

Havoc nodded, and fished in his pocket for his smokes, which he happily lit up without asking permission. When he saw Roy looking he offered the man the cartoon, but put it away when Roy waved his hand dismissively, completely misinterpreting Roy's intended glare. Unperturbed, the Captain took a long drag of the cigarette before answering.

"That you did sir. Reports came back that it was a good neighbourhood with a community feel. Most people there read the East City Times, and are sympathetic towards soldiers." He reeled off. "The school's get good reports and the children good grades, there's a couple of corner shops selling basic supplies and it's a five minute drive into the commercial part of town."

Roy nodded his head absently.

"And did you delve any deeper? Find out if maybe I knew anyone who already lived there, maybe?"

Havoc glanced across at him, and the calculating look in his eyes was so reminiscent of Hughes that Roy took a moment to collect himself. It was Investigations, he told himself, that made his friends have that all-knowing twinkle in their eyes. That was the only real connection Hughes and Havoc had.

"Someone like Edward Elric?" The blonde smoker asked, and Roy bit his lip. So the Captain _had_ known. Surely Havoc knew enough about their past to know Roy wouldn't want to be living a few houses down from his ex. Though he wondered whether he could even count Edward as an ex. Weighing up the one night of incredible sex, versus the years of watching the boy literally grow-up, ex certainly sounded better than 'that kid I fucked once'. Slowly, the General nodded, and Havoc rose a teasing eyebrow. "You told me you'd written to him."

Roy frowned.

He _had_ told Havoc that, actually. He remembered being quizzed by Havoc when it had been made clear that Roy would be moving to East City. Out of all of his subordinates Havoc was probably the one who knew most of what had happened between Roy and Ed three and a half years prior, thanks to the man's investigation into the awful incident that had happened around that time. He was also the only one nosy enough to continue pestering Roy for details, enough to find out of the pact Roy and Ed had made regarding East City and the vague future promise of what might happen if Roy was ever stationed there. In a serious lack of judgement he had lied to the Captain a few months prior and told him that Roy had already written to Edward and explained he would be moving to East City with his long-term girlfriend Freya, and that he hoped they could both move on with their lives, but remain friends. He grimaced at the man now.

"That's hardly the point. I'd still rather not be living so close."

Havoc laughed at him. Outright laughed. Roy's subordinates had never exactly been one for decorum, but usually they managed not to figuratively point their fingers and actually chuckle at him. Whatever Havoc thought of Roy now must have been quite amusing.

"Come on Chief." He teased. "I don't think you wrote." He held up a finger because Roy had opened his mouth to protest, and then he repeated himself. "I don't think you wrote, and here's why. You're still in love with him."

Roy looked away.

"I was _never_ in love with him." He mumbled, knowing he was a liar even as he said it.

He vividly remembered the night of passion he had shared with Ed three and a half years ago; the sleepiness of after-sex glow enveloping him; his entire body quivering from how well Edward had looked after him and physically sore from the fucking; and confessing his love for the blonde as his eyes slipped closed and post-orgasm sleep claimed him. Three and a half years of absence should have dulled that warm fuzzy feeling in his chest whenever he thought of his ex-subordinate, but their chance meeting the night before had proven otherwise. Absence, after all, was mostly renowned for making the heart grow fonder.

There was a long pause, and eventually Roy was forced to look back at Havoc, who was staring at him with a disbelieving look. He puffed on his cigarette and tilted his head slightly to the side, as if seeing Roy at a different angle would make the General easier to decipher. When he spoke, he was suddenly softer and kinder, the way he often was whenever the two of them spoke about Roy's heartbreak over Edward and the way he had acted in the months after Edward had left his life for a second time.

"You risked everything for him, and fell out of public life for three months after he moved back East. That's longer than I've ever known you to mope, sir, and I don't mean to sound disrespectful, but I think you've always been in love with him, to some extent." He assessed. Roy gave an annoyed grunt as he attempted to butt in and let Havoc know that he'd just delivered a brazen accusation and Roy didn't appreciate it after he'd only found out about some awful rumours regarding he and Edward in Ed's teenage years six years after the fact, but Havoc continued on without batting an eyelid. "I'm not saying I think you were lusting after him when he was a kid, so don't get all defensive. I'm saying I think you two were made for each-other. Like… like soulmates, or something."

Roy scoffed at the words, but Havoc was on a role now, clearly having no care for the traditional relationship between a commanding officer and his team and continuing to sling ideas around about Roy's love-life quite happily.

"Wait, hear me out." He said with a little laugh as if he knew that soulmates was probably a bit too much of a stretch. "You're both scientists, both know what it's like to lose everything, and you had this really great shot at happiness with each-other and it was just bad timing after… you know, Guttering."

Roy didn't need to be reminded of Guttering, and he swallowed around a lump that had formed in his throat when Havoc said the man's name. Years later Roy was still recovering mentally from the attack that disgusting pervert had delivered, and it seemed with every month that passed, even with the man in prison, Mustang feared his name even more. He rubbed his thumb and middle fingers together to create a spark, but didn't let it get out of hand. Now he tried not to let his upset show and stood from his chair, walking around his desk to lean against it in a gesture he hoped came across as natural and not as if he couldn't sit still, and needed to stand so as to not feel small and fragile.

"It's not any better timing now, Captain." He complained, thinking about Freya in a way that was probably a little cruel, considering she hadn't done anything wrong. "I would have appreciated not being ambushed. If you genuinely felt that I wasn't over him, which I am, by the way, then you shouldn't have allowed me to go running into him without any preparation."

Havoc finished his smoke and put it out on the sole of his shoe, which he crossed over his leg to do so. He looked up at the General with a knowing look.

"Tell me what happened Chief." He ordered, and Roy vaguely thought to himself that he shouldn't allow his subordinates to do that. If anyone was ordering anyone around, it should be him. Yet, he still acquiesced to Havoc's whims. He wasn't even all that surprised at himself at this point.

As it was, he stumbled over to the chintz heather sofa, took a deep breath, and began telling Havoc of his awkward encounter with Edward Elric the night before. How Edward had been at the park with his children, who were still perfect little cherubs. How Roy had rushed over because he'd seen the blonde going flying and hadn't realised it was Ed until they were about a foot apart. How Freya had been with them and how he'd awkwardly introduced them both, and how he'd tried to lie to Freya about how he and Ed were just old friends once they were eating a late dinner after. How Freya had pinned him with a heartbroken look and told him that she wasn't stupid, she knew who the Fullmetal Alchemist was, and she had read the papers during the time Roy and Ed had gone on that fateful date.

"Ouch." Havoc assessed, and Roy nodded.

"Stupid thing is, I knew Freya knew. We discussed it when we first got together. I just… automatically lied to her." He sighed. "I can't blame her for being mad."

Havoc shook his head.

"No, you can't." He replied without missing a beat.

Roy glanced up at him and the two of them shared a bitter smile. They may have gone on to chat more about the newest development in Roy's ever exciting personal life, but at that moment was a knock at the door, with a young Sergeant holding some boring looking files in her hands and trying for a friendly smile, and their duties in East City, running and overseeing the command centre, officially began. He waved Havoc out of the door with a look that was supposed to be authoritative and only made the Captain chuckle again, and childishly crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the chain-smoker rejoin the rest of the office and begin his game of desk-top tennis again.

He walked back around his desk and pulled forward the stack of files the sergeant had brought him, glancing over the first ones title and instantly feeling bored out of his mind. He flipped open to the front page as images of silken blonde hair whipping about in the wind played out in his mind. Ed was older now: twenty-six if Roy's maths was correct and he had the right birthday for the other man. He was wearing his glasses the night before, which pushed him even closer in looks to Hohenheim, and sent jolts of pleasure down into Roy's groin as he remembered their date years before, when Ed had confessed to needing the spectacles. He still looked as if he had never foot in a hairdressers in his life – his hair only getting longer and longer – now falling down almost to his damned hipbones. Which Roy was not thinking about. He was definitely not thinking about Ed's hip bones, because that would definitely lead to him thinking about the man shirtless, and that was counterproductive to getting on with paperwork.

But trying not to think about Edward at all was pointless, and he knew that from years of experience of the boy floating into his thoughts at any time of day. Seeing him the night before had been a shock, of course, but he hated himself that it wasn't necessarily a nasty shock. Fighting with Freya as a result of it hadn't been fun, and had ended with him sleeping the night before on the sofa – but even that had had it's advantages.

He should feel more guilty about the fact that Freya had slept the night alone, stewing in their designated room, mad at him – and he had spent the night with his hand wrapped around his cock thinking about golden eyes roaming over him, complimenting him, encouraging him on as his hand worked faster over himself. One of the other reasons he had skipped breakfast and run away to the office before she had woken. And also one of the reasons he should firmly put Edward from his mind, and possibly look into relocating again, despite the fact that he had only just moved into the house the night before.

He was in a relationship, he reminded himself, trying to replace the images of Edward's golden splendour with ones of Freya's pretty smile when she found a topic she was passionate about, or how she would sign insults about people at parties behind their back, making sure she was in sight of Roy, and make him laugh at inappropriate times. There were so many wonderful things about Freya that had kept their friendship alive for the last three years, and he couldn't so easily discount that because of one run-in with an ex. Freya loved him. She adored him. He had no wish to hurt her, and he wasn't about to invalidate three years of commitment because Edward Elric had decided to take his children to the park at half-eight on a _Tuesday_!

* * *

Edward waved the last of his students out his class, checked his watch, and counted his lucky stars that this time no one had stayed behind to have something explained over again. If he was late picking up Sasha and Maesie from their school once more Mrs Antlerthistle, Sasha's elderly teacher, had assured him she would be taking further action. Edward had assured her he wasn't late on purpose, and as a teacher surely she could understand the complex timetable of attempting to teach to inspired minds, but she hadn't budged in the slightest, so Ed wasn't willing to test her.

Behind her back he was researching voodoo and making a small corn-doll in her likeliness, but that was a story for another day.

He grabbed his brown trench from over the back of his chair, checked his appearance in the window, pulled his hair a little tighter into his ponytail, and brushed himself down of the chalk on his hands, which he had been using all day to show different Alchemical circles to the eighteen year old students trying to get a grasp on the science. Then he put his hand in his pocket, found his keys, and collected his briefcase from where he'd stowed it beside his desk, putting the last of his papers in it. He would have to grade the last of Monday's tests at home that night, after he'd fed and washed the kids, but that wasn't the end of the world.

He jogged down to the car-park out the back entrance of the university and slid into the driver's seat of his car unceremoniously. He hated that jogging to and from his car either side of work was the most running he could fit in to his days as of late. He still did all the weight lifting, but his cardio was beginning to fail because he couldn't leave the kids home alone to go for a run, and the one day a week they were at their mother's he usually ended up running out of time for a jog after he had organised everything else he needed to do. He threw his briefcase on to the back seat, where it bounced off of Maesie's booster and landed on the floor in a heap, and started the engine. He pulled out of the car park and then almost went through the window when he slammed his foot on the break and realised he hadn't strapped in.

Feeling a little panicky, he looked out the windscreen to see a woman with a sensible bob of dark brown hair and a long grey skirt looking shocked, with two canvas bags in each hand. Instantly Ed recognised her as Mustang's girlfriend, introduced the night before, and an overwhelming sense of dread overcame him. He unlatched his door and got out.

"Are you okay?" He asked as he approached, glad he hadn't actually hit her. He didn't want his next encounter with Roy to be an awkward explanation about his unplanned disposal of the girlfriend. She nodded at him, putting her canvas bags down, in the middle of the road, as she checked herself over. Ed had the urge to ask her once more if she was okay, but this time he knew he was referring to her mental state. _They were in the middle of a city_ , she couldn't just dump her shopping in the middle of a road. It wouldn't be long before there would be another car behind Ed trying to edge its way around. Sighing, he put a hand on her back and urged her towards his car. "Let me drop you home."

_Mrs Antlerthistle_ , he reminded himself. She would have to wait. Surely doing a good deed for a new neighbour wouldn't go against him when the witch finally decided to bring him up on accidental neglect. He sighed, Winry would kill him if word got back he wasn't giving the children a hundred percent of his energy. He'd have to explain to Mustang's girlfriend that they needed to pick his kids up – and then he could take her home. The grey skirted woman, Freya, if Ed remembered correctly, and he was pretty sure he had, looked him over and then nodded. Ed picked up her bags and placed them in the boot with a lot more care than he'd shown his own case. Freya seated herself in the passenger seat, and more sensible than Ed evidently was, she buckled herself in.

"Sorry about that." Ed supplied as he slid back in behind the wheel. He took a moment to get himself strapped in as well, and then restarted the engine. They had pulled away again when Freya finally spoke.

"I wasn't looking before I stepped out. My mind was absent."

Ed would have taken the blame, but he was kind of glad for her offering the excuse. It meant at least that if the altercation did get back to Roy (and why wouldn't it, she was his long-term, live-in girlfriend) then he wouldn't be called up and chewed out for purposefully endangering her life.

"I need to collect my kids from school." He warned her. "It's not far from your house."

He wondered if it was awkward that he knew where she lived. They were neighbours after all, but he had only briefly met her the day before, and today he had almost killed her. She didn't show an outward reaction to any creepiness about his knowledge though, and simply nodded.

"You have beautiful children." She told him, which was about as creepy as him knowing where she lived, so Ed supposed they were even.

She continued to stare out the window, and Ed continued to glance across at her ever thirty seconds to see whether she moved, or even blinked, and continued to grow increasingly worried when she didn't. He knew it was judgemental of him to think it, but he couldn't help but wonder what Roy saw in her. She was, for lack of a better word, plain. Simple. All grey and brown. Ed had, on more than one occasion, entertained the idea of meeting Mustang again when they'd both moved on, and usually in his mind whoever Roy chose to settle down with was bright, fiery and passionate, with a look to reflect that. Freya was… more muted than that. Usually in his daydreams he had also settled down with someone new – preferably someone ridiculously attractive, insanely intelligent, and in a well-paid job, that would show Roy that he hadn't spent the last three and half years pining.

Because he _hadn't_. He'd been on dates. They hadn't worked out - but that had nothing to do with Ed's memories of easing into Roy's welcoming body, and their easy-going banter, and the other man's quietly intelligent smirks – no matter what Al said.

Perhaps plain was what Roy was in to now. Who was Ed to judge? If that was what Roy was in to then Ed should count himself lucky that he'd dodged a bullet, because there would never be a time when he became the man's trophy husband – trailing behind him at events and kissing babies to gain the man more votes. He remembered standing in Roy's office years prior, with Hawkeye telling Roy he should settle down to stop public perception of him being a misguided gay-miscreant, and he glanced across at Freya once more, curiosity getting the better of him. She was staring out the window with a quiet sort of intensity that suggested she was deliberately not looking at him. Ed felt a little guilty for wondering whether Roy had chosen her specifically to rehabilitate himself to public liking after the papers had ripped them to shreds three and a half years ago with that awful exposé.

It took them another few minutes of awkward driving in silence, in which Ed was particularly careful with all his manoeuvres, not willing to risk killing the woman from inside the car, before Freya spoke again, turning to look at him with large brown eyes that reminded Edward somewhat of a baby deer.

"You and Roy know each other, right?"

She said it in a way that told Ed she already knew the answer, and Ed could only imagine how that confrontation had gone down the night before.

He wondered if Roy had owned up. He wondered if Roy had told his girlfriend that three and a half years ago he and Edward had one night of incredible sex where Roy had sucked Edward off in the hall before he could even get his boots off, and Ed had spent the rest of the evening fucking into the older man on the bed Roy likely still owned. The bed that he and Freya probably now slept in together, where Roy probably fucked her. He wondered if Roy had told her how three and a half years ago he had slipped into post-orgasm sleep with a confession on his tongue, and thought that Freya would never see, never know, never understand the specific beauty of Roy Mustang with his legs spread wide, his head tossed back, glistening with sweat and shaking in pleasure, moaning loudly as he was pushed further into the sheets with each thrust of Ed's hips. He wondered if Roy had told her how the next morning, hair still sex-tousled and his pale skin littered in Ed's kiss-marks, he had stumbled into the kitchen where Ed had made him coffee just the way he liked it, and they had promised that should the General ever relocate to the East they would make a real go of actually dating. Freya _seemed_ gentle enough, but Ed imagined, just from the look of her, that she was the kind of woman that knew exactly which household plants doubled up as poisons.

"I used to work for him." He confessed, settling on the least incriminating aspect of his past relationship with the man. He glanced across in time to see her purse her lips in a way that suggested she knew he was more than just an ex-colleague. He shrugged his shoulders, careful to keep his hands at ten and two, and sighed. "Why don't you tell me what you know?" He asked.

His years at VGA had taught him a few things about interrogation, although luckily he'd rarely had to use it, and he was grateful for the knowledge now, as Freya turned to him with her baby-deer eyes looking like he'd caught her in his headlights (which would be funny if he hadn't almost run her over) and then let out a small laugh.

"I'm sorry, I suppose I was being paranoid." She told him. "I met Roy a few months after his trial with General Guttering, and I'm not stupid enough to think he didn't choose to date me because I looked good for his image after everything came out about your relationship with him. I read the papers and knew you had moved to East City before I even met Roy, so it didn't bother me that he was just out of a difficult relationship at the time. Seeing you here now, being our neighbour… it makes things a little more complicated."

Ed's heart clenched painfully at her words. He couldn't deny that he'd only just thought himself that clearly she was the product of Mustang trying to reconcile his public image, but it was difficult to hear it from the woman who was actually being used for that purpose. He had to wonder, if she knew she was being used, why the hell she hadn't dumped Roy's ass years ago. He glanced across at his new road-trip buddy and was glad she was looking out the window again as he gave the back of her brown bob a small smile. He wanted to dislike her, because he was mad that Roy hadn't at least told him he was moving East and he childishly would prefer to blame Freya for that – but who could hate someone who spoke so honestly? He ran his tongue over his teeth and tried not to let it show that he was warming to her, and chose to respond to the part of her little speech that didn't make him feel like a total liar.

"We didn't exactly have a difficult relationship." He told her honestly, and then realised it sounded like he was saying their relationship wasn't difficult, as opposed to them barely even having a relationship, and backtracked. "I just mean, it was one date, you know. The papers blew it out of proportion."

Freya leant back a little further in her seat and hummed gently, as if she didn't believe him.

"I don't think he viewed it that way." She told him.

Ed glanced across at her in surprise, but she was looking out the passenger window again and he couldn't see her face. He was itching to find out what that meant, but he didn't think it was fair to quiz the woman on how Roy had acted following Ed's rush out of his life, given that now she was firmly established as Roy's partner, and Ed would definitely look like he was moving in where he wouldn't be wanted. She was, after all, clearly devoted to him. If what she said was true and they met not long after Ed had returned to East City, then that put her relationship with Roy in the 'years' category, which certainly beat one night of passion. However hot it had been. Ed, himself, had spent most of the time post 'break up' with Roy holed up in Alphonse's flat figuring out the logistics of the divorce and looking for a job, and deliberately ignoring the papers because he hadn't wanted to see Roy's face and end up running back to Central and abandoning his kids again. Her one little sentence had excited a spark of curiosity in him, however.

He pulled up outside the school gates and both of them exited the car, so Ed locked it up and walked with Freya into the school yard, where there were swarms of mothers collecting their children, and not another dad in sight. As such, Ed was a bit of a celebrity amongst the mums, and they spotted him, and the simple woman by his side, instantly.

"Ed! Hey, over here!" One, a glamorous mother named Jenny, shouted across the playground, waving at him, and Ed waved back with what he hoped wasn't a grimace. He walked up to her and was instantly dragged into a wave of other mums gossiping and trading stories. He listened politely for a while, and then Jenny tapped him playfully on the shoulder and said "Oh, we really must arrange a play-date for the children. I know Josiah would love to see Sasha over the weekend!"

Edward had tutorials over the weekend. Sasha and Maesie spent Saturdays with their mum so it was the best time to book his extracurriculars. Jenny, on the other hand, had a rich husband and didn't work herself, and always made home-made organic snacks for her precious angel that put Edward and his 'yeah, we'll stop at a bakery on the way home and I'll buy you a gingerbread-man' to shame. She wouldn't understand Ed's work commitments, and she'd probably try and impress him by stating loudly how she just didn't understand how Winry could bare to be without her kids for six out of seven days a week, and Ed would want to smack her because she had no idea what Winry went through and how much Winry loved her children, so he just nodded and agreed.

"We'll definitely have to arrange something." He said, which they both knew was a polite brush off. Jenny was smart enough not to let her disappointment show on her face though.

"And who's this?" She asked, eagle-eyes homing in on Freya and turning her body away slightly, as if trying to give Ed's new neighbour a crash-course in shitty body-language. Ed thought that Jenny probably thought Freya was his girlfriend or something, because Jenny hadn't exactly been subtle in her approach to drag Ed into a sordid affair, (Ed had straight up asked her about it once, stating that he didn't think her husband would be happy with her outright flirting with him, and Jenny had giggled, putting her false nails to her reddened lips, and told Ed that having affairs was part of the fun of her marriage). He wondered if it was rude to be a little insulted at the idea that Jenny might think Freya was a romantic interest for Ed, since, after all, she was likely around the same age as his deceased mother. Then he remembered that she was likely the same age as Roy, and he had had no qualms about being with the other man, so he was probably definitely being rude about Freya, and felt a little apologetic.

As such he made up for it by introducing his neighbour with a sly wink and a cheeky hand on her back that would have given Al a heart-attack, and was spared the excited gasps and feverish questioning over their relationship, by the classroom doors opening and a swarm of children running out. Ed was lucky in that his kids were usually easy to spot, with their sunshine hair amongst the sea of browns. Sasha was always one of the loudest, as well, often running screaming from the classroom in pure delight. Today he rushed right up to Ed, launched himself into his father's arms, and then protested at being gathered up for a hug, struggling out and demanding to be placed back down on the tarmac.

"Jeez dad, not at school!" He admonished, even though he had been the one to go in for it. Edward simply shook his head in exasperation and tried not to be upset when Sasha ducked out of the way of Ed's hand going to ruffle his hair as well.

A few minutes later Maesie came bobbing out of her classroom in a much more subdued way. Her furtive eyes, so very blue like her mother's, were glancing around her nervously. Ed watched her for a moment, wondering how he, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and Winry, the most forthright woman he knew, save perhaps Riza Hawkeye, had possibly produced something as gentle and considering as Maesie. He grinned at his daughter when she finally spotted him and came trundling over, pulling her sparkly pink backpack further up her back by the straps. He bent down to be at her level.

"How was school?" He asked her, and she shrugged her shoulders, looking down at the ground. "Good?" He tried, then "bad?"

The little girl shrugged her shoulders again. Ed sighed.

"Just okay?" He asked, and Maesie nodded her head. Smiling, Ed ruffled her hair (happy that she at least would let him have some physical affection) which had come loose from the braid he'd wrestled her into that morning, and then took both her hand and Sasha's hand to lead them back to the car.

"She doesn't speak?" Freya asked, trailing a little behind him, and Ed shook his head.

"She doesn't have words." Sasha happily informed her, seemingly unperturbed by the addition to their usual drive home. Ed squeezed his hand, and turned to their neighbour.

"Maesie has a speech and language delay, but her cognitive ability is absolutely fine." He defended, used to having to explain to people that his daughter was still smart, despite not communicating the same way their children did. Freya, however, merely nodded.

"Have you checked her hearing?" She asked.

Edward had heard the question hundreds of times before, and he hated having this conversation with people, because usually it ended with him in tears, which was why he snipped back at her without thinking.

"Of course we've checked her bloody hearing."

There was a silence after that, in which Sasha cleared his throat and looked at his father with a frown on his face, and then said solemnly "You said a bad word."

Edward sighed, and squeezed his son's hand again, before turning to Freya and giving her what he hoped was an apologetic looking smile.

"I'm sorry, I just meant that she's had this delay for a long time, we've… we've tried everything."

He expected Freya to nod in fake-understanding, or give him a pitying little smile, or any of the other things adults did when Ed explained about his daughter not speaking, but instead she skipped the pitying apologies, and even the acceptance of Ed's half-hearted sorry, and spoke to him with genuine curiosity that had Ed feeling off-kilter.

"Have you tried sign language with her?"

It put Edward on the back foot, and as he strapped the kids securely into the car he wondered for the first time if there was more to the woman than just boring skirts and boring hair. He slid into the drivers seat next to her and shook his head, feeling a little ashamed because he'd just told the woman he'd tried everything, and yet apparently he hadn't. He strapped in and then pulled away from the curb for the short journey back to their neighbourhood.

"The Speech Therapist hasn't mentioned it." He said, again a little defensively, which was a surprise because the Speech Therapist had tried pretty much everything with Maesie, from flash-cards to hearing tests. Freya frowned at him, and then immediately launched into a passionate explanation about the results of using sign-language in children with speech and language delay, which Edward would have probably discounted if she didn't back it up with hard science and talk of cognitive zones within the brain and how speech and gesture were physically connected to each other.

"I'm surprised Roy hasn't mentioned it! I taught him sign years ago!" She gushed, as if Ed and Roy met up for coffee once a week, and then glanced across as she realised how many years he and Roy had been out of touch, and what a touchy subject their past relationship was for everyone involved. "I mean… well, it's a thought, at any rate." She finished lamely.

Ed had pulled up the car outside his home instinctively, instead of hers, and he was staring at her now. She looked prettier, her cheeks alight with a rosy glow and her eyes shining in clear passion for the subject.

"You seem to know a lot about this." He said, and watched as she blushed in modesty. All of a sudden Ed got a real sense of what Roy had seen in this woman – especially for rehabilitating his image – she was oddly adorable.

"I'm actually a trained sign instructor." She admitted, looking at her hands folded down on her lap.

Ed glanced between her and the house, and desperately wanted to know more about the things she was suggesting, so he shrugged his shoulders, glanced into the back seat where Maesie was fiddling with her seatbelt and Sasha was practising clicking his fingers and only producing a shuffling sound, and made up his mind.

"You wanna come in for some coffee?"


	3. Freya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she folded her hands on the table in front of her in the perfect picture of etiquette that Edward would never be able to achieve – not that he really had any inclination to – and began to weave her story.

Edward ran a hand through his hair again as he sat down at the dining room table with Freya, two mugs of coffee between them, and in doing so pulled it a little looser from it's ponytail. He adjusted his glasses, which had begun to slip down his nose, and tried valiantly to ignore Sasha's hyper shouting from the room next door. As a duo, he and Sasha, they had spent the last half an hour quizzing Freya on everything she knew about sign-language and how it might help Maesie, and Sasha had been particularly vocal during the discussion, having always been quite protective of his little sister, even if at times she could be 'a total nuisance' (or so Sasha liked to say). All the while the seven year old had been grilling Freya, however, he had also been watching his sister build tall towers from wooden blocks before he decided they needed to come tumbling down. Which Maesie hadn't been very appreciative of. Eventually Edward had banished them both to the living room and gone to brew himself and his guest the proffered coffee she had been invited in for.

"They're usually not as hyper as this, it's just exciting having a new face around." Ed lied, and Freya, with the ultimate patience of someone who voluntarily worked with children, gave him a serene smile and sipped delicately at her mug.

Ed had dug in the back of the cupboard to find something a bit fancier than his own chipped favourite to give her, and had ended up with a thin ceramic tulip mug with flowers on it that he thought might have come his way via Ming-Yue. He briefly wondered about handing something so delicate over to someone he didn't really know, especially since gifts from his surly ex-colleague were a huge rarity, but by that point he had spent a long time in the cupboard and didn't want to spend even longer looking for a mug, in case it came across as rude.

"Sasha has an impressive ability to understand what his sister wants and needs." Freya stated, having witnessed Maesie attempting to make herself understood to Edward, and Sasha once more translating her non-verbal communication into fluent Amestrian. Ed thought back on all the times Sasha had told Ed exactly what it was Maesie was after, even though Maesie herself had only made squeaks and wails to get her point across, and he nodded his head thoughtfully. It wasn't the first time he'd wondered at his son's ability to understand his sister, but his children were a mystery to him at the best of times.

"A friend of mine used to say he spoke for her." He admitted. Freya gave him a considering look over the top of her flowery mug and then placed it down on the table with a soft tap.

"Well, that's not uncommon in older siblings." She assessed, although they both knew Maesie's particular delay was anything but ordinary. Ed fought the urge to scoff, picking up his mug to seep the warmth from it into his fingers. "Now, shall we talk about Roy, for a moment."

Edward glanced up from his mug and across to her, suddenly apprehensive. It wasn't as if he had thought inviting her in to his home would stop her from wanting to talk about her partner, but he could confess to worrying that he wasn't going to come off looking too clean if she wanted the entire story. He shrugged his shoulders at her.

"Okay." He agreed cautiously, and she folded her hands on the table in front of her in the perfect picture of etiquette that Edward would never be able to achieve – not that he really had any inclination to – and began to weave her story.

"When I met Roy he'd had this persona of being Central's most eligible bachelor, which had been the case for many years. Three months prior his name had been splashed about in the papers as being the victim of a hate crime, and there had been this big exposé about how he was gay and dating an ex-employee, who was many years his junior. I thought, the night I met him, that he was certainly not acting like Central's most eligible bachelor, and that maybe he was gay. Honestly, I only spoke to him because he looked so incredibly lonely, sat in the corner the whole night with just Mr. Havoc sat by his side, and Mr. Havoc was mostly focused on gaining the attention of the ladies." She paused here, and Ed smirked at the imagery of Havoc trying, and most likely failing, to flirt with any woman in sight. "We agreed to go on a date a week later, and I knew, even then, that chances were he was only paying attention to me because I would look good for his public image after the papers had slandered him so much, but I let him take me out, and I learned he was a man nursing a broken heart, and a broken ego, after what had happened to him three months before. He flinched whenever someone mentioned the name Guttering, and froze if he thought he saw someone on the street that might have been that man. It took me many months to realise why, and then many more to convince Roy that Guttering is in jail, where he will stay for a long, long time. I still don't think he's really come to terms with what happened to him."

Ed had to put his mug down when he realised he was shaking, and he blew a deep breath out through his nose, feeling awful for his ex-CO. He couldn't regret coming to East City and starting his life properly there, because it had lead to him being able to properly parent his children, but it was horrible to hear that Roy had been suffering so much in Central at the time. It was horrible to think he'd moved away to East City to start his life fresh, when Roy's had been crumbling down around him. Ed had left the day after the trial – he'd thought it was over because Guttering had been found guilty – but he realised now that nothing had been over for Roy.

"I'm sorry." He heard himself saying before he was really aware of what he was doing. Freya shook her head as if to shake away his words, and Ed felt terrible because they hadn't been for her anyway, but for the man who had clearly needed him three and a half years ago.

"He won't admit it, but he's still terrified of Guttering, even from behind bars – and I've never been enough to make him feel safe." She paused again, collecting her thoughts, and then seemed to change track. "He spoke about you often, in the trivial way people do. He mentioned you when talking about Alchemy, when he got letters from you, or when he saw something that reminded him of you – and many things reminded him of you. He was always so careful to call you Fullmetal, to refer to you as an ex-colleague, but I had read the papers – I knew who the Fullmetal Alchemist was, and I knew who you were to him. On his worst nights he would pick up the phone by his bed and phone a landline near the borders of Drachma, and would spend hours on the phone whispering with someone I didn't know. I thought for a long time that that person on the other end might have been you, and I hated you for being able to be there for him when I couldn't wrap my head around why he was still feeling unsafe."

"That wasn't me." Ed protested, but Freya only looked at him with a small smile as if she knew, now, that the mystery person on the other end of the phone hadn't been him.

"He loved you." She confessed, and Ed shook his head at her, almost chuckling at the absurdity of the allegation.

"No. I just happened to be around at a time when he was vulnerable." He shot back. "I know he didn't love me."

Freya rose an eyebrow at him, incredibly calm for someone discussing the idea of her long-term boyfriend loving someone else. She took another sip of her coffee.

"How do you know?" She asked, and Ed, being who he was, answered without putting all that much thought into the consequence of his actions.

"Because we made a promise that if he ever got relocated to the East then we would date each other. He had ample opportunity to tell me he was coming, and he never did – so I can only assume he's moved on." He explained, and then hastily backtracked when he saw Freya looking at him as if he had just spouted feelers. "That just means he loves you, right?"

Freya didn't look at all like she believed that, which just made Ed's heart break for her, but he wasn't able to try and reassure her any further, because at that moment Maesie let out the loudest, more ear-splitting scream of her life, and Ed was forced into investigating why.

* * *

When Roy finally let himself into the new house at half eight the day after they'd moved to the East, he didn't think too much of the lights being off. Freya was likely having a candlelit bath in their new bathroom, or reading by lamp-light in one of the back rooms. The house itself was bigger than anything they would have been able to afford in Central, and with the sale of his prime location apartment and the money they had garnered from selling her neat little ground floor flat two years prior, they'd upgraded to the three bed semi before him. There was a cosy living room to the front, and large hallway with stairs up to the bedrooms, a dining room behind the living room and a small galley kitchen at the back which lead out to a downstairs bathroom. It was perfect for the two of them, sharing one bedroom, using one as a study and library for Roy, and one as a spare room should they have guests to stay.

He put his keys down in the flowery bowl by the front door, picked up Aphrodite, their cat, as he wondered through the hall and into the kitchen, cradling the soft silver tabby to his chest, uncaring of the fur clinging to his uniform jacket, and moving towards the door at the back that lead to the bathroom. Freya didn't have a job in East City, but she had clearly done some of the unpacking during the day because she had already hung a chintzy sign on the door that labelled it as a place of relaxation, and he knocked cautiously.

No answer. He frowned at the cat, and she hopped up on to his shoulder, like some pirate's parrot, as he moved back through the kitchen, checking the living room, and then up the stairs.

"Freya?" He called, when he hadn't found her in their bedroom, or his study (although he hadn't expected her to be in there). Aphrodite mewled at him impatiently, and he travelled back down the stairs and to the station they'd set up in the kitchen to feed her. Her bowl was empty, which was odd because normally Freya would feed her about half six, when she sat down to have her own dinner, and the cat never ate it all in one go, preferring to leave a little for breakfast the next morning. He frowned at the bowl, and fetched some cat-food, affectionately scratching at the back of his feline friend's head when she eagerly tucked in.

It was very unlike his girlfriend to be out at this time of night, and so he opened the kitchen door and stumbled out into the back garden, just in case she had decided to tackle the weeds there. It was empty, and looked like she hadn't even looked at it all day, which was fine because it was November and he hadn't expected her to be gardening, but still disconcerting that he had no idea where she was. He moved back into the kitchen, checked in the dining room on the off chance, called out for her again, and then collected his keys back from the bowl and walked back out the front door. He could see the park where he'd run in to Fullmetal the night before, but it was blissfully empty now. He looked up and down the street as if expecting Freya to be walking up it towards him, and then swallowed thickly when it was obvious she was nowhere in sight.

It was fine, he told himself. Freya was a grown woman and could look after herself. It wasn't as if she had children to be looking after at home, Aphrodite was fairly self-sufficient, and not being in the house when Roy arrived late didn't automatically mean something awful had happened. Except… despite being a little away with the fairies at times, Freya was so very rarely not at home when Roy eventually found his way back to her. In the years Roy had known her he could count on his fingers how many times she hadn't been home when he stumbled in from work, or from the pub, or from Riza's. She would put left-overs of whatever she had cooked herself for dinner in a small container so he could heat it up if he was hungry, and she would be reading in bed, or, usually on a Tuesday when he was lamenting his week with Riza and a bottle of wine, having a relaxing bath. The few times she hadn't been at home, she sometimes left a note on the chalkboard she attached to the fridge. Sometimes 'gone shopping' or 'at mums' or the one memorable occasion when it had simply said 'adopting a cat' and she had come home with Aphrodite.

He walked back into the house and checked the fridge. Freya had set up the chalkboard, but it was bare of any notes indicating where she might be. He could feel his anxiety growing, and reminded himself she was perfectly capable of looking after herself, even if sometimes she was forgetful or a little bit clumsy. He sighed at the fridge. This was the same woman who regularly left the tap running all night, and never even thought to lock the door before bed, even though they lived in a city.

He walked into the hallway, picked up the phone from where it was hanging on the wall, and rang Riza. He wished he could go straight to calling Freya, but he had no idea where she would be. It picked up on three rings.

"Hawkeye speaking."

He tried to keep his voice as casual as possible as he spoke to her.

"Hey, Riza, it's Roy. I don't suppose you've spoken to Freya at all today. Maybe she left a message with you?"

It was a long shot, since Freya and Riza had very little to do with each-other at the best of times, but he wasn't sure who else to call. There was a considered silence on the other end, and Roy had to wonder whether she was thinking or whether she was busy with work and only half listening to him, which happened more often than either of them would admit. Finally, the blonde woman cleared her throat.

"No sir, I've not spoken with her. Is she okay?"

They'd gone to bed on an argument the night before, and Roy had run away in the morning to work and not aired it out with her. She was mad he'd lied – he was mad because he'd been caught lying. A feeling of dread settled over him and made his stomach lurch uncomfortably at the idea that this was Freya's way of telling him they were over. Perhaps she'd just left him. Would she do that to him the day after they had bought a house together? The paperwork would be a nightmare. Then he calmed himself that all of her things were still there. He shook his head into the receiver and wondered whether he should admit to having no idea where his girlfriend was. If it was Havoc or Breda he wouldn't have, but it was Riza, and he'd never been in the habit of lying to his best female friend.

"Difficult to say, she's not here. She hasn't left a note." He explained.

There was some scuffling on the other end of the line, and Roy imagined his friend collecting papers together that would inevitably end up on his desk in the morning. Riza was more of a workaholic than he was, and was always taking paperwork home with her so she could torture Roy with it in the early hours of the work-shift. Roy had almost missed it whilst she had been working directly under her grandfather.

"You should ask if any of the neighbours have seen her." Riza suggested, and Roy frowned into the receiver.

"I don't know any of my neighbours." He shot back, but his heart was already clenching painfully at the idea of his day-dreamer girlfriend being lost in the new city. She hadn't wanted to move to the East, he thought – She'd only agreed because it was move with him to the new city or break-up, and they'd had lots of strained conversations about it before she had finally agreed. He heard Riza hum thoughtfully.

"You know one of your neighbours." She informed him.

Roy felt the bottom of his stomach fall away and, feeling only a little dramatic for his reaction, he put the hand not holding the phone against the wall to steady him, because he wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't collapse from the insinuation of Riza's words. Yes, he knew one of his neighbours, but Riza saying that meant she knew he was living in close quarters with Fullmetal once more. He wondered if everyone on the team knew he was living six doors down from his ex.

Well, he didn't actually _know_ it was six doors down. He'd watched the direction Ed had moved off in the night before, but he hadn't stalked him home. He sighed into the phone.

"I don't know which -" He began, hoping he could avoid speaking with Edward because he wasn't sure he could face the man after his guilty wank the night before, but was cut off by the Major.

"Number thirty-two, sir."

He poked his tongue out and screwed up his nose in annoyance that clearly his subordinates had intelligence on Ed and weren't sharing that with him, and pointedly ignored that if Riza had seen that she would tell him he was being childish. He was, of course, but he felt it was justified.

"Fine." He huffed, and only kept on the line long enough to hear Riza implore him to keep her updated and let her know if he managed to find Freya, which was probably out of concern for him more than concern for Freya. He assured her he would and hung up.

He shoved his keys into his pocket, walked back out the front door, turned right and down the road, passed a fair few houses and across the zebra crossing, to where another smart looking semi-detached house had a bright red front door and black number thirty-two drilled on to it. It looked as if Ed had never grown out of his obsession with red, and that had Roy smiling fondly. He raised his hand, steeled his courage, put the thought of his activities on the sofa the night before from his mind, rearranged his face so he wouldn't be grinning like a loon when Ed answered, and knocked.

A few seconds later there was a crash from inside and Roy distinctly heard the voice of Edward Elric shouting at his kids to calm down, and stop throwing things, and then the door was ripped open and the man himself was stood on the other side, his hair slightly tangled and coming loose from his ponytail and the top two buttons of his shirt entirely undone. He looked, for lack of a better analogy, and Roy was really racking his brain for one, _fucked out_. Suddenly Roy's mouth was very dry.

"Oh, hey." The blonde said, eyes widening slightly and then relaxing again. "Sorry, I've been taking advantage of your girlfriend." He admitted.

Wait… Ed had just had sex with Freya? Was Freya even _capable_ of making a man look like that after sex? In the few times they had tried being physical with each-other it had been awkward and unsatisfying, but maybe that was just a lack of passion between the two of them. Maybe Edward enticed a new, sex-wild side of Freya that Roy had never managed to find.

Roy took a second to catch up with himself. Just because the boy looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, that didn't necessarily mean it was the case – Edward often looked tangled and messy, and Roy had just heard him arguing with his children, so it was likely he was just having another stressful day with the Elric brood. As for his comment about Freya, well… that needed some more explanation.

"Where is she?" He asked, thinking to alleviate his panic regarding her whereabouts before the two of them got into an argument over semantics, and only ending up sounding a little rude.

Edward, looking entirely nonchalant, as if their reunion after another three and a half years of little to no contact meant very little to him, stepped aside and waved Roy in. Feeling only a little awkward, because clearly their being in the same city meant more to him, and after all he had come into his hand whilst thinking about the man the night before, Roy obliged. He almost lost his carefully constructed cool when Ed put his hand on Roy's lower back to guide him into the house, through the doorway, and Roy had to close his eyes and calm his beating heart as memories of the couple of weeks Ed had spent with him as a bodyguard came rushing back to him.

"Just through here." Ed said, gesturing for Roy to move into the living room.

It seemed their houses were mostly laid out the same, although from a quick glance in to the kitchen from the hallway Roy could see Edward, or whoever had owned the house before Edward, had knocked down the wall separating the dining room and the galley kitchen and had created a bigger, L-shaped Kitchen diner. He moved into the living room to see Sasha sprawled out on the floor with books littered around him, some with their spines tilted backwards and lying haphazardly as if they had recently been thrown, and Maesie tugging gently at the cream sleeve of Freya's jumper and pointing towards a bookshelf, where even more books were crammed in.

"Freya." Roy breathed in relief, and to get her attention, and the woman turned and offered him a breezy smile. It occurred to Roy that, as she was wont to do, Freya probably had no idea what the time was, and it hadn't occurred to her that she had panicked him by not being at home. She waved at him, and then turned her attention half back to Maesie. Freya pointed to herself, and then lifted her hands, index fingers pointed up, and placed the tips of her fingers on her temples, then moved her fingers out, and put them together. She pointed to Maesie, and then put both her hands, palms facing each other, in front of her, and, with an inch gap between her palms, made a rubbing, circular motion with them.

_I'm teaching Maesie to sign._ Roy translated it in his head, but Freya had said the words as well, because, if Roy remembered from Freya's lessons, kid's with communication problems needed to hear the words and see the signs to make progress. For a moment Roy was transported back to years prior, when Sasha and Maesie had braved an entire day's travel to see their father in Central, and Sasha had told Roy that Maesie _didn't have words_. It seemed that was still the case. They had been so little then, Roy doubted either of them would remember the outing.

Well, it explained why Freya had got distracted and wasn't at home. There was hundreds of questions about how she had come across Edward and his family, and somehow integrated herself enough to be teaching his kid sign-language, but he supposed that could wait for another day. Instinctively, because they often communicated this way, he signed back to her.

_It's almost nine._

He didn't say the words as he spoke them, mostly because when they communicated this way it was so they could have private chats about people whilst they were right in front of them. Freya was a demon for signing insults about people with a perfectly calm smile on her face. Having a language that was entirely their own was one of the main ways they had become close, once their sex life had trailed off. Freya frowned, and then looked around, where there was a clock high on one of Ed's walls. The look of realisation was clear on her face. She made a fist and circled it over her chest.

"Sorry." She spoke along, then, in typical Freya fashion, a look of understanding dawned on her incredibly expressive face, and she turned to Ed with something akin to flushed delight. Roy lamented that she hadn't looked at him like that in over two years. "It's almost nine!" She repeated Roy's signing to the blonde man. "It's a school night. Sasha and Maesie should really be in bed."

She said it as if it was some naughty secret, something wrong but still fun, and Roy took a moment to admire her deviant side. He'd known, more than most people who looked at Freya and made a snap decision that she was plain, that she had a fun-loving nature – it was impossible to work with children and not be a little immature yourself – but she rarely let it show when she was going about being Roy Mustang's doting not-wife. She hadn't been this riled up and excited for what appeared to Roy to be years, and he hated knowing it was likely their relationship that had done it to her. A pang of jealousy went through his chest that Edward had bought it out in her in just one day.

"Yeah." Edward agreed, looking a little flushed himself, and a little like a school-boy being scolded. It dawned on Roy that the children being up past nine was not an unusual occurrence. "Right," the father of two tried, his tone taking on a quality of pseudo-authority that Roy would have ignored entirely if he was one of Ed's kid. "Time for bed, you two."

Predictably, Sasha took one look at his father and pegged it out into the hall, where Roy could hear what sounded like him crashing through the kitchen towards where, if their houses where the same, there was a bathroom at the back of the house – with a lockable door. In quick succession Maesie threw her little hands in the air and, oh how Roy remembered this from that fateful day three and a half years prior, began to scream like an actual banshee. Freya dropped to her knees to try and calm the girl, and Edward had already spun to chase after his older child. Roy stood still and did nothing, because it wasn't his place to get involved. He listened to Edward banging on the bathroom door, and then;

"Sasha Alphonse Elric! I swear by all you hold dear if you don't open this door right now I'm going to go get piglet and, and..."

"Piglet's in here."

And there went Ed's leverage – whatever Piglet was, and Roy could only assume it was a favoured toy of Sasha's, it was safe and secure in the locked bathroom with the seven year old. Maesie was still giving her best impression of the unholy offspring of a whistle and a tortured animal, and no matter what assurances Freya was making (of which Roy really didn't think it was her place to get involved either – he was sure Edward had at least some semblance of routine with his children and they would eventually sleep when they crashed) the little girl was not to be calmed.

"We should go." He heard himself say, all but shouting over the noise of Maesie's wails and Edward continuing to bang on the bathroom door and shout at his eldest. Freya shot him a look she kept for special occasions: the look that reminded Roy that this woman hadn't yet but very-well-might one day drop kick him over a cliff, and continued her fussing over the child.

"We can't leave now." She fired at him, not even sparing him a glance any more.

Roy reminded himself that Freya was technically mad at him from the night before, and although Roy's panic over her whereabouts had dulled any notion of anger in him, she hadn't worried in the slightest, and so was still plenty up for a fight. He sighed, because that was the last thing he wanted right now, and in lieu of being able to talk to her at a normal volume, he said her name to get her attention and then started signing. He pointed to himself in the middle of his chest, and then made his hand into a claw and shook it over his right temple.

_I worried._

He continued on when Freya made no move to respond. He pointed at her, flicked his index finger through the air away from himself, made a stop-sign gesture with his right hand and moved it from his chest to past his right shoulder, and then used his index finger to point from the side of his mouth and travel it forwards.

_You were gone without saying anything._

Freya looked at him now, and her features relaxed. She shook her head a little ruefully and then pointed to herself, followed by pointing down at the ground.

_I was here._

Roy nodded. He made the same stop-sign movement as before, showing a negative, and then made a thumbs up sign and put his thumb to the middle of his forehead, before pointing back at Freya with his hand tilted slightly.

_I didn't know that._

After a moment it occurred to Roy that Maesie's insane screaming had quieted down, and she was now looking between Roy and Freya, hiccuping slightly and looking interested in their silent conversation. Roy could still hear Edward trying to negotiate with Sasha over the lock on the door, getting increasingly panicked, and, still feeling like it wasn't his place to be doing so, he dropped to his knees in front of the small girl and felt a little awkward when she looked at him with her big blue eyes still filled with tears. Those eyes were all Winry, and Roy had always had a soft-spot for Ed's pretty engineer.

He signed as he spoke to her, keeping his movement and his words slow so she could keep up with both his words and his gestures at the same time.

"Please be a good girl and go find your pyjamas, and maybe Freya can stay and read you a story in bed." He promised.

The girl looked at him for a long moment, and then shifted her eyes to the side as if ashamed, and nodded, walking around Roy and into the hall, padding up the stairs to where Roy assumed she would change into her pyjamas. He looked up to see Freya was smiling at him now, and hoped that that meant that to some degree he was forgiven. The woman had always been a sucker for children, and Roy interacting with children was a sure-fire way to get most women of a certain age to forgive him almost anything. Now there was only Edward and Sasha to worry about. Roy reminded himself that Edward couldn't just use his alchemy to unlock the door, thanks to the sacrifices he made on the Promised Day. Sighing, he turned into the hall and made his way through the kitchen, where piles of laundry were on the floor and piles of dishes were in the sink. It looked like Edward was barely keeping it together on his best days.

"Can I help?" He asked, sliding up next to the blonde where the man was banging on the door, having given up on shouting at his son for a moment. Edward rested his head against the door.

"Unless you can convince my son that his bed is not evil incarnate and sleeping for a reasonable amount of time during the night isn't going to make him spontaneously explode, then I think the best thing you could do right now is leave." He responded, and there wasn't even any of the usual Fullmetal fire in his words or eyes; just the tiredness of a father defeated by two hyperactive children.

"Let me try." Roy heard himself saying, and wondered when he started thinking of himself as some kind of child expert. Sasha was likely to laugh in his face at any attempt he made to get the kid to bed. "Do you mind…?" He asked Edward, making a gesture with his hands like he was about to clap. The blonde looked at him for a moment, as if trying to figure out what in the world his clapping gesture might mean (and Roy reminded himself again that Ed hadn't been able to perform Alchemy himself in what was rapidly coming up as a decade) and then realisation seemed to dawn on him and he caught eye-contact with his ex-CO and nodded his head.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead." He mumbled, once he realised that nodding to a 'do you mind' question was a little confusing.

Not needing much more encouragement Roy clapped his hands together, felt the familiar power of alchemy running through his core, and pressed his fingers to the outside of the lock, where it neatly clicked out of place and the door swung open to reveal a wide-eyed and awed-looking seven year old.

Three seconds later Ed had the boy in a firm hold, despite Sasha's kicking and screaming protests, and was carrying him through the kitchen. Roy went to take his leave, but before Edward had left the kitchen he turned back – no easy feat with the boy in his arms still putting up the fight of his life – and pinned Roy with a look that was equal parts searching and pleading.

"Don't go yet." He demanded.

Roy shrugged his shoulders, going for the same mostly nonchalant attitude Edward had been achieving since the day before and probably missing by a mile.

"Freya's going to read them a story." He repeated, wondering if, and if so at what point, he had overstepped the mark.

Edward seemed to visibly deflate at his words and nodded his head, turning back to wrestling his kid up the stairs. Roy heard him muttering what could have been assurances and could have been thinly veiled threats under his breath as he went. Roy watched him until he was out of sight and then returned to the living room, where Freya was picking up the strewn about books and finding places for them on the bookshelves. Roy's own bookshelves were in a very specific order and if Freya had done it at home she would probably have upset the system – but Ed's shelves were an absolute mess of alchemy-texts sitting flush against children's stories, and so Roy imagined her tidying was probably appreciated more than anything.

"I fed Aphrodite." He said in way of greeting, which sounded like an accusation that she hadn't done it, as against to the sharing of information he had meant it to be, and he winced at his own words. He could feel another argument in the air between them, and tried desperately to backtrack. Freya put the last of her books on the shelf and then collected a thin, brightly coloured story from the selection. Roy sighed. "I'm sure Fullmetal is grateful of your expertise with Maesie."

Compliments. He told himself, compliments got you everywhere. Freya was bashful, she would normally blush crimson at even the smallest of hints she had expertise in anything, but now she just looked at him with her no-nonsense shade of brown eyes and rubbed her thumbs against the book in her hands, looking sad.

"She has a severe speech and language delay, and the family has been seeing a specialist since she was three. They hadn't tried sign though, so there's hope that she might still speak yet." She explained, words gentle, soft and quiet. Roy could feel the sadness wafting off her from his spot on the other side of the room, and swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. She was talking about Maesie, but Roy got the impression she was deliberately not talking about all the other things she had learned in her afternoon with the Elrics.

He nodded, opened his mouth to say something, anything, to address the unspoken sadness within her, but came up short. She gave a breathy sigh, and then moved past him out into the corridor with the book in hands.

"Freya." He tried, but she didn't look at him, opting instead to speak towards the wall as she began to climb the stairs towards where Edward was probably still wrestling Sasha into bed.

"Go back home, Roy." She ordered him, and Roy wasn't usually in the practise of taking orders from a civilian, but he instinctively inched towards the door. "I'll be back soon, and we'll talk."

He watched her go up the stairs with no small amount of dread running through his veins, and then left her, and the Elrics, and made his way back to his new house, feeling out of the loop and very much in the way. He got the impression he really wasn't going to enjoy this talk.

* * *

Freya read the children _Little Red Riding Hood_ whilst Ed stood in the corner of their bedroom supervising and nursing a lump on his head that Sasha had delivered him whilst he wrestled the child into his pyjamas. Freya read the book in a calming, quiet tone that had both children listening with sleepy looks on their faces that hadn't been present up until the moment the woman had sat down on the edge of Maesie's bunk and begun to read. She said each word in the book with the expertise of someone who knew exactly how to calm children down to sleeping, and when she was done Maesie had fallen asleep and Sasha was rubbing his eyes and looking defeated.

Ed stepped forward and lifted him up into his own bunk, grimacing at the pain in his back that told him if he didn't start lifting his kids with his knees he was going to end up out of action. Sasha snuggled down into his covers and Ed patted his back gently, smiling at the blonde hair sticking up at all angles. It was one of the reasons Ed wore his long – gravity took over and stopped the birds-nest quality Sasha was currently experiencing.

"Love you." Sasha told him sleepily, closing his eyes and almost instantly slipping unconscious. Ed smiled at his sleeping face.

"Love you too, little man." He told the boy, and then ducked down and placed a kiss to his daughter's head. She was a little sweaty from her cold, and he checked her temperature with his hand but she didn't seem overly hot. "And you, princess." He told her, even though she was fully asleep and wouldn't hear him.

He turned to Freya, who was putting the book down on the little side table and making her way towards the landing, and he followed her out, flicking off the lights and pulling the door towards closed to block out the light from the landing, but leaving it ever so slightly open in case either of them woke up during the night and called for him.

"Thank you." He told her, and she just shrugged her shoulders as they made their way back down the stairs. She stopped in the hallway, and Ed rushed into the kitchen to collect her shopping bags they had stored in his fridge earlier during the day. He delivered them to her in the hall and she nodded at him.

"What you told me earlier, about that deal..." She began, and then trailed off. Ed felt terrible for mentioning it at all, but nodded at her to continue. "Roy… he's never gone back on a promise."

Ed thinned his lips, pulling them into his mouth to chew on them. He knew she was right, of course – Mustang was nothing if not honourable, and had promised many things to Ed in the past, and had seen them all through without so much as a blink on how it might affect him. The most potent of which was how much he had put on the line when he promised Ed he would help him find the Philosopher's Stone.

"It was barely even a promise." He tried. "Besides, he's met you now. I wouldn't intrude on that. I'm not that kind of guy."

Freya levelled him with a curious look, as if she was going to look into his soul and see if he was lying to her. He couldn't expect her to believe him after just one afternoon of knowing each other, but after a moment she nodded her head.

"You probably wouldn't make a move, no." She told him, as if affirming it, "but it doesn't change the fact that Roy's never broken a promise. He promised you that if he was ever relocated to the East that the two of you would try dating – and now he's been relocated to the East."

Ed wasn't sure how to make her see that a deal made three and a half years prior, off the back of being a bit shagged out, didn't constitute a binding contract.

"I think he still loves you." Freya told him. Ed let out a small chuckle at her words.

"I really don't think he ever _loved_ me." He repeated from their conversation earlier in the afternoon. Sure, Mustang had once said those words, but that was likely out of the sheer emotions of their sexually charged relationship at the time coming to a culmination.

Freya rose an eyebrow at him, a look on her face as if she could actually smell his bullshit, and bid him goodbye, leaving through the front door. Ed watched her go feeling confused and conflicted. There was no way he ever wanted to split up a relationship, but he had an awful feeling the relationship in question was already broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished my Uni assignment two days early so you guys got an early update!   
> Also if anyone has suggestions for tags, let me know in the comments as I'm actually terrible at tagging...


	4. The Break Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love you too much to put us through a messy break-up

Freya got in at half nine, letting herself in to the house with a small clutter and striding into the living room, where Roy was sat with the lamp as his only light and pretending to read a book. He'd only picked it up when he'd heard Freya coming through the door, and he placed it down again when she entered the room as if she had interrupted him. She sat down on the armchair across from him and folded her ankles together daintily.

"I read Little Red Riding Hood." She told him, as if they weren't about to have another argument. Roy nodded his head but said nothing. She sighed. "I came to be in Edward's company again by chance – I stepped out in front of his car on my way home from the shop at about three, and he gave me a lift home."

It was very like Freya to step out in to on-coming traffic, especially if she'd been distracted, so this didn't entirely surprise Roy, but he still frowned at her. He shook his head and crossed his arms.

"You spent six hours there." He assessed, and Freya nodded, as if spending six hours in the company of someone you didn't know and who was the ex-everything of your lover was normal. She clicked her tongue.

"I was teaching the family sign – but I also spoke a lot with Edward."

Roy could feel the tension slipping into her. Whatever Edward had told her was gearing her up for a fight, and Roy was more than willing to have it. She was allowed to do what she wanted, of course, but he couldn't help but feel betrayed that she'd spent the entire afternoon in the presence of Edward, almost as if she had been on a fact-finding mission. Whatever she said now, whatever she had found out about his and Edward's relationship, he would be annoyed at her for finding it out through Ed and not him. He hummed in his throat for her to continue, and then felt the bottom fall out of his stomach when she did.

"He told me about the promise you made, should you ever relocate to the East."

His head came up to look at her in time to see her sitting there with quiet fury, and he instantly felt guilty. He couldn't even tell her he had no intention of making good on that promise, because for a long time after he met her, and had started dating her, he was still daydreaming about reconciling with the half-Xerxian bombshell that was Edward Elric. He had even thought about it not a couple of days previously, before moving to East City, and had spent the night before jerking off to thoughts of the young father of two after just one stupid encounter in a child's playground.

"I had no intention of even seeing Edward again." He told her, which was at least the truth.

He had had a plan to stay well enough away from the blonde, despite the move to East City, but that decision had been taking out of his hands when Havoc had failed to mention he would be moving in to the same street as the ex-alchemist. Freya looked at him now with the same look of heartbreak she had levelled him with the night before when he had lied to her, and then looked down at her lap, playing with the folds of her skirt.

"I'm not stupid, Roy." She said, and it was something she reminded him of often, which only made Roy feel worse for the times he had thought of her as slightly less intelligent than himself. "I'm a good career move, but you don't love me, and you never have."

Roy could feel his heart breaking in his chest at her assessment. He had thought for some time that she knew he thought of her mainly as a career driver, but it was the first time she was saying it out loud to him, and hearing it made it sound a million times worse. He couldn't even deny what she said was true, but he did view her as a good friend, and he hated that he had hurt her this way, even unintentionally. He dropped to his knees from the sofa and crawled over to her, placing his hands over hers, where they were fiddling nervously.

"I..." He tried to deny her allegations, but found that he couldn't. Freya caught his hands in hers and placed a kiss to his fingers over his gloves. He looked up to see tears streaming down her face and went to dry them away, but she shied away from him. She had never shied away from him in the past, and the move had him feeling a little panicked.

"I want to go home, Roy." She told him.

A lump formed in Roy's throat and wouldn't move. He stared up at her half incredulous and half panicked, and tried desperately to marry his idea of what should be happening with what was actually happening. He had to clear his throat to make any noise come out.

"I can't just go back to Central, I've got a job to do here." He heard himself saying, but it was as if he was listening through a door. Freya looked down at him, and then placed a warm hand on his cheek and shook her head ruefully at him.

"I want to go home." She repeated, "alone."

Roy didn't register the words straight away, but when he did he was on his feet before he had even thought about doing that either, and had ripped himself away from Freya's gentle touch and was pacing the living room with a disbelieving look in his eyes. This couldn't be happening – they had only moved to the city the night before; he knew she hadn't wanted to move so far away from her parents and friends, but this was the house they had bought together; he didn't even know the procedure for freeing up her equity. Besides – Freya couldn't be breaking things off with him, he was Roy Mustang, and she was… she was just Freya.

"Are you breaking up with me?" He asked, barely believing the words had left his lips. Freya stood now too, and shrugged her shoulders at him helplessly.

"I think it's best we take a break." She told him. "You know I never wanted to make this move… besides, now I know you've made promises to other people and -"

"That promise was barely even a promise!" Roy interrupted angrily. "I'm… I'm with you. I don't cheat. Freya, you have to know that."

He hated that he was so broken up about this, so angry and not sure what to do with himself. He couldn't remember the last time someone had broken up with him so emphatically, and he wasn't used to the emotions that came with it. Freya was looking at him with something akin to pity, and Roy hated that too.

"A promise is a promise." Freya told him patiently. "You of all people know you shouldn't go back on your promises."

Roy frowned at her. She knew about his bid for Fuhrership, she knew he had plenty of promises to make and keep, but surely she could understand promising things for the sake of the country were promises worthy of keeping, and promises to shack up with an ex-subordinate after years of little to no contact were not the same?

"It was always conditional that neither of us had moved on, and I have." He tried to placate her. She made a move towards the door and Roy had to fight himself to not physically pull her back. She stopped at the door and shot him a disbelieving look.

"Have you?"

Roy stilled. In two words she was breaking down his entire defence. He hadn't. That was the crux of it, wasn't it? He said he was with Freya, but they both knew he didn't love her – not in the way she deserved to be loved. And if the night before was anything to go by, how one meeting with Edward could have the two of them arguing and Roy spinning out and thrown for a loop, then maybe he had never moved on from the blonde bombshell after all.

"I don't want to lose you." He heard himself saying, "You're my…" He wanted to say girlfriend, but that felt like cheapening it – rubbing it in her face how really what they had was a charade, like they were just playing house.

"You're my best friend." Freya told him, and when he looked to her she was crying again. Roy hated that he felt like crying too. "I know you too well to try and pretend that seeing him again hasn't made you _want_ him again – and I can't live in this house pretending to be your loving partner, knowing that you're wishing I was Edward Elric."

"I would never -" Roy began, but Freya cut him off abruptly.

"Don't lie to me!" She demanded. "I have eyes you know! He's handsome… he's exactly your type, actually – and don't try and tell me you don't have a type because I've spent years watching your eyes wander in crowds, looking at pretty blonde women with long legs, and handsome blonde men who obviously work out. Edward is attractive, but he's especially attractive to you. Don't try and deny it."

"Okay." Roy agreed, wishing she'd walk back into the living room and sit down again, but she was staying put by the doorway. "So he's good looking – I won't deny it. That doesn't mean I wish you were him."

Freya wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her turtle-neck, and when she looked at him again she was glaring.

"I love you too much to put us through a messy break-up." She told him. "I'm not spending the next however so many years living in a city I hate, watching you pretend you're not wanting to fuck him, arguing with you about it all. So we're ending it now. Go and fuck him. If it's the right thing then you'll be happy and I'll be happy that you're happy – and if it's not then at least I won't have to watch you destroy yourself any more."

"Freya!" Roy called, but she had already turned on her heel and was walking up the stairs. Roy sank down on to the sofa, staring in the space – wondering whether he should go after her, or it was better to let her be. A few minutes later Freya was stomping back down the steps with a backpack over one shoulder.

"I'm going to stay at a hotel tonight." She informed him, stopping the doorway and surveying him coolly. Roy took a deep breath, the fight having gone out of him for the moment, and mind reeling as he tried to figure out how to stop this break-up from happening. "I'll be contacting a moving company in the morning, and I'll be back soon to collect my things. I..."

She paused.

"I love you."

Roy stared at her with terrified, worried eyes, barely believing the words just uttered had come from his mouth – rushed out into the air between them in his voice. Freya looked at him with such a look of betrayal in her eyes that he instantly wished he could reign them back in. He had never told her that he loved her before, opting instead for more generic messages of affection, and panicking over her leaving him was not the time to lie to her face. She looked for a moment as if she was going to say something to him, but then she just sighed and turned away, heading for the front door. Roy heard it open and bang closed again, and flinched from his position on the sofa, staring down at his knees in self-pity.

She probably would have lived in a hotel for a few days, and then forgiven him and come back to him, but now that he had lied to her face about loving her, she would never forgive him.

* * *

Ed was sat in his living room trying to read a complex theory from the university level set books, and he scrubbed his hand over his face and adjusted his glasses, blinking down at the text of the book that seemed to be growing more and more fuzzy the longer he stared at it, and then jumped out of his skin when there was a loud knock at the door. Seconds later it sounded again, insistent and noisy. Ed shot a glance up at the ceiling and hoped whoever thought it was acceptable to call on someone at nearly half-ten at night wouldn't wake his kids. He stood, straightened his shirt, and made his way through the hall, where he could see through the frosted glass of the front door that the perpetrator of the loud knocking had his fist raised for another assault.

"Alright!" He huffed angrily as he ripped open the door, and came face to face, for the second time that day, with Roy Mustang. He was still in his uniform and this time, rather than the worried expression he'd worn when looking for his girlfriend a couple of hours earlier, he simply looked pissed off.

"What the fuck did you tell Freya?" He all but shouted the second Ed had the door open. The blonde shot the ceiling another worried look and then rose an accusatory eyebrow at his ex-CO. He put his finger to his lips.

"Shhh." He admonished. "Jeez, come in and have some coffee or something."

Roy slammed his fist into the door-frame and Ed would deny later that he jumped at the aggressive action.

"Fuck your damn caffeine addiction!" He growled. "Give me an explanation as to why my girlfriend just walked out on me."

And Ed wasn't sure what he was expecting to be the reason for Roy to be so worked up, but it hadn't been that. He blinked at the older man in owlish surprise and stepped back slightly into his house, holding the door open to the other man instinctively. He wondered if it was mean to be surprised that someone as gentle-hearted and otherwise plain as Freya had found the self-pride and balls to walk out on someone as charismatic and fiery as Mustang. He had known, of course, given their conversation earlier in the day, that Roy and Freya were due for an argument that evening – but he hadn't expected her to end things with him. A feeling of guilt pooled in his stomach.

"Look, the kids are asleep." He said in lieu of the explanation Roy was looking for, and motioned once more for the older man to step inside and stop making a scene. If nosy Mrs. Twenty-Eight across the way got wind of him having arguments on his front-step at ten o'clock at night then the whole neighbourhood would know by the morning. As such, he was glad when the General shot the ceiling a look of his own, most likely remembering Maesie's impressive set of lungs, and nodded his head, stepping over the threshold.

They wondered through the hall and into the kitchen at the back. The person who had owned the house before Ed had knocked through the wall and made it a fairly large kitchen diner, and Ed was glad of that now, because he was able to motion to Roy to sit down at the dining room and still see him whilst he busied himself in the kitchen putting the kettle on to boil. It reminded Ed of the many times they had had conversations over coffee when Ed had been working momentarily as Roy's bodyguard, and he felt a stirring in his stomach he knew to be the first signs of arousal at the memory. He placed the kettle down a little heavily on the stove, berating himself that now clearly wasn't the time, and turned to the older man. Roy was hovering by the table, not sat, clearly on edge, and his hand was resting gently on the wood of the table.

"What did you say to her?" He repeated, and although his volume had turned down, his tone was no less angry.

Ed shrugged his shoulders, turning back to the kettle the moment it began to whistle and filling two mugs with coffee. His black and Roy's with a splash of milk (he only kept it in for Sasha) and a spoonful of sugar. He took them both over to the table and put them down on glass coasters that Alphonse had bought for him, which had a rather lavish Xingese design on them. If memory served Roy had only allowed himself sugar in his morning coffee, but Ed didn't think there was any harm in trying to sweeten the man up at that moment. As it was, Roy didn't even look at the proffered drink.

"We spoke a lot, in all honesty." He replied, but realised he'd only managed to anger the man further when Roy clenched his hand into a fist and glared at him.

"Don't bullshit me Fullmetal!" He hissed, "Freya said you told her about our stupid deal."

Ed rose his eyebrow at the man, and licked his lips. He had known telling Freya about the promise had been a mistake, but he had attempted to console her that it wasn't anything he planned on holding Roy to, and it wasn't something he thought Roy would be looking to cash in on. If anything, Freya had seemed sure of only one fact, that Roy apparently still loved Ed, and Ed had gone to great lengths to deny that. Looking at Roy in his kitchen, the other man near-on shaking with rage, he didn't think it was any great stretch to believe that Roy no longer felt anything for him beyond fury.

"I did." He admitted. Roy snarled at him.

"Why the fuck would you even mention it?" He asked, and then didn't wait for an answer before he was speaking again. "What was the plan here, Edward? She came home feeling unloved and like I was cheating on her, and now she's staying in a hotel and plans on moving back to Central. I've just been broken up with by Freya _fucking_ Collins. Was that what you wanted?"

Edward furrowed his brow, trying to sift through the sling of allegations Roy was throwing at him, and found himself getting defensive, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture to match Roy's postulating. The older man was waving his arms everywhere now, but Ed was deliberately trying to keep his cool in front of Roy's wild, angry bursts of energy.

"It just came up." He tried to defend, but Roy gave an angry, obviously put-on laugh at that.

"Oh, it just came up?" He repeated, looking disbelieving. "You know as well as I did that that promise was made at a time when neither of us ever thought I would be coming East. Clearly I was just trying to find a way to make what was a one-night-stand have more meaning because we had a history, but I had no intention of moving East and you chose your family over any potential we had, so you don't get to hold me to some shitty promise almost four years later!" He ranted.

Edward recoiled slightly, glaring now too. He cleared his throat angrily. Where the fuck did Roy get off coming in here and throwing his shit around?

"I wasn't trying to." He huffed back. He went on to say that he had made that very clear to Freya, but Roy pointed his finger at the younger man and was speaking over him.

"Did you think that mentioning it to Freya would get her out of the picture and you could sweep in and make good on that stupid deal? Because fuck that. Mentioning that was manipulative and clearly a bid get back with me, but sorry kid, I'm not interested! So you need to-"

Roy cut himself off when Edward delivered a swift smack to his right cheek, and his head was physically turned to the side with the force of it. The resounding slap of sound rang through the kitchen and bounced off the walls, and was followed by a silence only broken when Ed let out a shaky breath.

"How fucking _dare_ you." He assessed, surging forwards and jabbing a finger at the other man's chest, effectively backing him into the corner of the dining area. His voice raised dramatically. "I couldn't give two shits about your relationship – but clearly that woman loves you and you've been using her as a political move. Don't try and deny it, because I was there when Riza told you to settle down and low and behold a few months later you find the plainest woman in Central and shackle yourself to her. And don't put your guilt on me! It's not _my_ actions that lead to your girlfriend walking out on you. She's known all along that you've never loved her and nothing you've said or done since I've met her has made me think you care about her at all. Do you have any idea how fucking _conceited_ you sound? 'How dare Freya break up with me, it must be someone else's fault.' Fuck that Mustang, _you_ did this. You've treated her like dirt and she's too kind to tell you you're an ass-hole, so I'll do it. _You're an ass-hole_. I only mentioned that shitty promise because Freya was already fishing for details regarding that one-night-stand and you had clearly never discussed it with her, so I had to clarify what the fuck we actually were to each-other. I tried to reassure her that now it's nothing, but clearly you've made her feel otherwise! But rest assured, Mustang, it's nothing. _We're_ _nothing_."

Roy was looking at him now as if Ed had slapped him again, and Ed's hand was shaking by his side because he would like nothing more than to do just that.

"Edward..." He tried, but Edward held up a hand and Roy flinched, so Ed lowered it again, the fight going out of him. He felt bad for hitting the man, truly, especially knowing what Freya had told him regarding Roy's mental state that afternoon, but he wasn't yet calmed down enough to apologise for it.

"Get out, Mustang." He said in lieu.

He walked over to the kitchen door and made a gesture with his hands like Roy should walk through it. A moment later Roy was edging passed him, and walking down the hall. Ed watched him out the front door and winced slightly at it banging shut behind him. The second Roy's shadow was out of sight he sank to his knees and buried his head in his hands, allowing himself a dry sob. He was still there a few minutes later when small feet came padding down the stairs and down the hall, and then a tiny hand rested on his shoulder.

He looked up and gave his daughter a small smile, glad he wasn't quite as far gone to actually be crying. Maesie was sensitive enough that she would probably start crying alongside him. He was angry, more than anything, but in his adulthood his frustrations tended more towards tears than blind rage – which was probably a good thing.

"Hey baby girl." He told her, wrapping her up in his arms, and she circled her little arms around his neck and squeezed gently. She snuggled her head down into his hair and then patted the top of his head. He turned his head and kissed her cheek. "Daddy's okay. Let's get you back to bed."

She must have sensed that Ed was feeling sad because she didn't make any fuss about being picked up and carried back through the hall and up the stairs, to where she shared a room with her brother. Ed had put together some bunk-beds in there and Sasha had the top bunk, so he tiptoed across the room and snuggled Maesie down into her own bunk, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning down over his daughter.

"Sleep tight." He whispered to her, bringing the covers up to her chin and tucking her in at the sides. She stared at him with her big blue eyes, so much like Winry's, but with a careful consideration that often reminded Ed of her uncle Alphonse, and said nothing. She blinked her eyes back into unconsciousness and before long she was snoring gently. Edward stayed sat on the side of her bed for a moment, hand resting delicately on top of her chest and feeling the rise and fall of it as she breathed, and tried not to break down.

* * *

The next morning Ed woke to find himself on the floor in the children's room, and grumbled moodily as he sat up and a pain shot up his back. It wasn't the first time he'd fallen asleep sat on the floor in his kid's bedroom, watching them sleep and marvelling how children that could be such wild spirits during the day could level out into something akin to angelic the moment they closed their eyes. Sasha and Maesie were beautiful when they slept, with rosy cheeks, Ed's dark eyelashes, and their soft harvest hair. They were, of course, beautiful during the day as well, when their eyes sparked with wildfire and mischief, and their smiles lit up their entire faces, but Ed would be remiss of the truth if he didn't admit they wore him down to his core on his best days. When they slept they were so entirely different from the children they were in their waking hours that more than once Edward had found himself standing over their beds and checking their breathing every two minutes, just in case.

Last night he had spent hours focusing on the rise and fall of Maesie's chest, listening to her soft snoring and lamenting how in her seven years of life she hadn't spoken a completely formed word to him. She could get her point across, most of the time, but invariably they were in a game of twenty questions whenever Ed needed to extract information from her, and sometimes it was purely a guessing game. The doctors had tried everything. They had thought when she was little (even littler, Ed told himself) that she might have been deaf, or at least hard of hearing – but that theory was abandoned when Maesie responded to all of their questions and stimulants, simply non-verbally. Then it was simply a delay, and she would get there in time – and yet she hadn't, and by the time she was four and not saying a single thing the doctors had to reconsider. Then it was a problem with they way her mouth was formed, she couldn't get her tongue around the words – but that had been discounted when they conscripted a dentist. All the while everyone was clear to say that she was very intelligent, and her cognitive ability was almost on level with a genius (Edward proudly blamed the Elric genes for this), and so eventually they had arrived on the idea that she was a selective mute, and would possibly never speak.

Winry had cried for three days straight, and Ed knew she still struggled trying to communicate with their daughter. Ed couldn't blame her; on his worst days he was frustrated enough trying to deal with the children's antics that the thought of never hearing his daughter tell him she loved him, or that she had enjoyed school, or even what she wanted for breakfast, was enough to send him running to his study – ignoring both the children completely until he was able to calm down. If he thought about it for too long he was wont to break down in tears himself, so it wasn't something he regularly discussed, unless he was having to explain to a teacher or a doctor that Maesie understood them fine, and they didn't need to use baby-talk when addressing her.

He stood and tiptoed out of the room, checking his watch as he left and telling himself he would only give the children a few more minutes to sleep before he had to wake them up for school. He took the stairs as quietly as possible and moved into the kitchen, where he found two coffee mugs on the dining table from the night before, and felt a wretchedness move through his body at his memories of the previous evening. Mustang had another thing coming if he thought Edward had deliberately caused a rift between Roy and his girlfriend. Whatever had caused Freya to run back to Central was undoubtedly Roy's own fault. As such, he picked up the mugs, poured the cold coffee away and put some toast in the toaster, before heading back up the stairs and shaking the kids awake.

"Come on now, get dressed." He told them. "Breakfast is almost ready."

He trusted them just enough to figure the lure of food would convince them to dress without destroying anything and make their way downstairs, and sure enough five minutes later he watched as his two wildlings stumbled into the kitchen in their school uniforms. With only eight months between them Edward was always a little thankful that they were in different school years, as he couldn't imagine any teacher dealing with both Elric children in one classroom. He poured some orange juice into a glass for Maesie, and some milk into another one for Sasha, and placed them down on the table, where the kids hopped up on to seats and tiredly assessed their breakfasts.

"Don't – uwaaah – want toast." Sasha yawned at him.

"We don't have cereal." Ed replied.

He usually did a supply run on Fridays, since it was his day off and the kids were still in school so he didn't have to drag them screaming round a supermarket, or deal with them both putting things in the trolley when he wasn't looking, but last Friday had been an overnight stay with their mum and he hadn't been thinking clearly when he was perusing the isle, and so had picked up a smaller pack of cereal than normal, which meant they had run out the day before. He knew Sasha wasn't going to be happy about it, but until he could get to the store there wasn't anything he could do.

"Don't. Want. Toast." Sasha repeated. "Can I have cake?"

Ed frowned at his son.

"We don't have cake." He said, which was true, but was also a much simpler way of dealing with his son's requests for food than trying to explain to the child that cake was not a breakfast food, nor could you live your entire life only eating cake. Any attempt to educate Sasha would simply lead to a litany of 'whys' that would have Ed pulling his hair out by the time he dropped the kids off at the school gates. Sasha looked ready to repeat his outrage over the toast, however, so Edward sighed and pointed to the glass of milk. "Just drink you're milk."

Sasha frowned at the glass. He wasn't like Ed, who hated the white liquid of doom, but he did go through stages of not liking anything simply to spite his father, and it looked like today was going to be one of those days.

"I don't want milk." He mumbled, but by this point Ed was rapidly losing patience, and he had already poured the drink so he rose an eyebrow at the boy and crossed his arms.

"It will help you grow big and strong." He said, which was always dodgy ground, because Sasha was slight for his age and had inherited Ed's touchiness over the mention of his height or build.

"You don't even drink milk." The boy shot back, which was true and highlighted how much of a hypocrite Ed was, but he was the adult, so he wasn't going to have a seven-year-old chew him out. "milk making you taller is all bullshit."

The silence that followed that was ringing in Ed's ears, and he stared at his son as he attempted to marry what he'd just heard with the image of his at times spunky but usually polite enough son. If Winry got wind of Sasha spouting words like that Ed was going to be on the receiving end of her biggest, meanest looking wrench. Not only had he used the word, but in true Elric style he had used it in exactly the right context. Edward had pretty much no doubt he had heard it directly from Ed's own mouth. Sighing, he rubbed a hand through his hair, pulled out his rubber band and began redoing his ponytail.

"You shouldn't say that." He responded. He wanted to yell, but what use would that do now? It would probably only make Sasha want to say it more, and if he said it at school then Mrs Antlerthistle would probably take it as a sign of Ed's inability to parent correctly. He grabbed up the glass of milk, poured it away, washed out the glass and then refilled it with orange juice. "Better?" He asked as he got back, biting his lip because at least now Sasha was nibbling on his toast. The boy nodded.

"Are we going to play with Freya again today?"

The question took Ed off guard. When Sasha said playing he really meant terrorising, but nonetheless he had clearly enjoyed having a female presence about the house the day before that wasn't his annoying little sister (Sasha's words, not Ed's). He remembered Roy stood in his kitchen the night before and waving his arms about as he hissed and half-shouted at Ed, and how the man had said Freya was heading back to Central. He finally realised what that meant. Freya had spent the afternoon before teaching Ed and his two kids rudimentary sign language, and Maesie had made some signs. Ed had been hoping to employ her services more often to learn it as a new way of communicating – even if it didn't lead to Maesie speaking it would massively expand the way she could get information across. It seemed that wasn't going to happen.

He sighed.

"No, I don't think so little man." He replied to his son, ruffling his hair slightly. Sasha batted his hand away, par for the course. He sank down into a spare chair and rested his chin in his hand, elbow on the table despite always telling the kids to keep theirs off it. He wondered if there was anyone else he knew that might be able to teach them sign, and thought that if he managed to get a moment today he should really call Al and give his brother the latest updates of what was happening in his life. He really hadn't seen Alphonse in far too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! 
> 
> I just wanted to say I've just found out I'm moving, and we pick up the keys on the 19th and need to be out of our current home by the 1st of September, so updates might be a little sporadic. 
> 
> However, it is kind of super exciting for me, because (Background info -) I'm a huge Harry Potter Dork. I've loved that series since it was first published, back when my dad had to read it to me because I couldn't read (Book 1 came out when I was three, and my dad, being a PHD student at the time, decided a chapter-book of Philosopher's Stone ilk was good bed-time story material (Jokes on him, that caused a life-long obsession!)) Anyway, more background - my husband works at a Private Boarding school in the south of England called Lancing College, which was approached by Warner Brothers when they first starting making the HP films and asked if they could film Hogwarts there. Lancing said no, but basically what that means is, my husband works at Hogwarts. The super exciting bit? We are moving because my husband has been offered a house on the school grounds. Which means - that's right - I'M GOING TO LIVE AT HOGWARTS. 
> 
> So yeah, updates might be a little sporadic because I'm packing, but I'm too excited to be that remorseful about it... Thanks!


	5. Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Friday then, it's a date." He said instinctively, and then winced. "I mean… fuck, you know what I mean."

That Friday, after Edward had done a large shop in the local supermarket and made sure he'd selected the right sized box of cereal this time, the blonde had arranged to meet his brother in town. He had a few hours before he needed to pick the kids up from school, and talking things over with Alphonse couldn't hurt, so they agreed to meet in a small coffee house a little off the beaten track from East City High Street and settle down for a long chat in doors, away from the cold. It was brisk outside in the October air, and Ed found himself wrapped up in an overly long red scarf and a warm brown suede coat, with heavy duty boots with good grip on his feet in case it snowed, and his hair piled up on top of his head in a messy man-bun so that the wind didn't continuously blow it into his eyes. As he entered the cafe the wind took the door from him and some autumnal leaves blew into the doorway. He took off his glasses and rubbed them on the side of his coat, where they had steamed up from entering the warm cafe after being in the cold wind for so long, and then put them back in place on his nose. Ed pushed the door shut again with his whole weight and smiled at Alphonse, who was sat at a table for two by the window, watching the wind ruffle up the outside world.

Alphonse was about a month away from joining Edward as a twenty-six year old, but as always he looked older than his brother. His hair was cut in to a neat adaptation of short back and sides, and there were a few crinkles around his eyes that didn't smooth out when he stopped smiling, which Edward always assumed came from how much malnutrition his body had gone through when it was held captive by the Gate. It didn't help that he still carried around a walking stick, despite having no need for it for near on a decade now. Edward suspected his brother's fondness of the stick was mostly due to how it made him look distinguished, but Alphonse never said as much. Over all, Al was still a child at heart though, and that fact was never more obvious to Edward than when they sat down with two cups of coffee, Ed's black and Alphonse's a sweet blend of cinnamon and whipped cream, and Alphonse hungrily eyed up the cakes and pies in the shop window.

"Mei doesn't understand western sweets." He told Ed for what was likely the hundredth time. "She tries, bless her, but baking is not her forte. Winry was always better at that."

He quickly glanced across at Ed at the mention of his ex wife, something apologetic slipping on to his features, and Edward shrugged, because none of what Alphonse had said was untrue. Winry was always an excellent baker. Mei was a great cook, but anything sweet was beyond her capabilities, as Alphonse had lamented many a time.

"Get a cake then." Edward told his brother, although he himself would abstain from the extra calories on account of needing to be in shape to chase after his hell-spawn. He watched as a multitude of expressions passed over his brothers face, from deliberation, slightly guilt, and then acceptance, and smiled to himself because he could never deny Al anything, and he was still amazed that Alphonse could sit there and morph his face into whatever expression he wanted, rather than remaining impassive steel. A few minutes later Al had bought a Banoffee Pie and was sat back down at their table, carefully sectioning it into bite sized pieces with the edge of his fork.

"Don't tell Mei." He mumbled. They both knew Edward would usually rat him out the second he next saw his sister-in-law (or she would be his sister-in-law if Alphonse had ever gotten around to marrying her before knocking her up), if it wasn't for the fact that Mei was six months pregnant and scarily angry half the time, followed by hysterically crying for the other half. It was safer for everyone involved if they didn't let her know that Alphonse had cheated on her culinary prowess for the sake of a pie. Especially if you didn't then sweeten her up by allowing her to eat some of that pie.

"How is she?" Edward asked, avoiding talking about his own life for as long as possible. He hadn't seen Al and Mei for a couple of months, despite living in the same city, because life had a habit of getting in the way. Maesie had come down with chicken-pox a month and a half ago and although it had only lasted for week, she had then passed it on to her brother, and Edward had been paranoid about passing it on to Mei, so had quarantined himself and his kids for the duration and a few weeks after all the spots had scabbed over.

"She's calmed down a bit." Alphonse replied. "She's started waking up half way through the night with cravings for really specific dishes from Xing that I don't know how to make, or even know how to get the ingredients for in Amestris at three in the morning."

Edward wished he could regale his brother with stories of Winry in her pregnancies, and how it would get better once the baby arrived, but he would forever feel guilty about the fact that for most of Winry's pregnancies he had been in Xing, fucking the Emperor, and when Sasha had come along Edward had fallen into the trope of history repeating itself and run the hell away, just like his own father had. Alphonse still didn't know all the details of that though, so he simply hummed in a mockery of agreement. He hoped to some extent he was making up for how much of a shit dad he had been when the children were tiny by being there for them now.

"Sasha is very excited to meet his cousin." He said in lieu of anything more specifically related to Al's comments.

The youngest Elric nodded his head, smiling at the idea of the baby to come. Edward had specifically not told him anything about how when Sasha was a baby the bundle of hyperactiveness had kept him up for over 72 hours with continuous crying, no matter what his parents offered him. He hadn't mentioned how when Maesie was born Winry had struggled with breast-feeding and how his ex-wife still blamed that for the girls speech and language delay, which made no logical sense but was still heart-breaking. He didn't mention how Sasha had almost killed himself jumping off the balcony in their old house in Rush Valley, because children have no sense of fear, and if Ed had been even two seconds later in his rush to catch the boy then Maesie would be an only child. He hadn't explained how no matter what you did there would always be other parents, or teachers, or people that didn't have children but thought they had an opinion, that would judge your parenting decisions. What he had said, repeatedly, and with conviction, was that no matter what your children put you through it was all worth it just to feel their little arms around you or watch them learn something for the first time.

"And how's Maesie?" Alphonse asked, which was always a dodgy topic, since often Edward would be spinning a tale about his youngest and then remember she would likely never talk to him and burst into tears.

The man looked around the cafe now, noting it was pretty empty, since it was a week day and most people would be at work. Alphonse working research and Ed working part time at the university gave them that freedom. He shrugged his shoulders at his brother and picked up his coffee to hold it in his hands and seep the warmth from it.

"Her teacher decided to do an entire topic on public speaking and debating this term, so she's going to fail a class over something she can't change." He said, which was something that had been at the forefront of his mind since the teacher had announced it in the school meeting in September. Edward had attempted to go the headmaster to voice his concerns and was told that term topics were completely at the discretion of his teachers and he couldn't censor their right to choose and plan their classes. Ed had stormed out of the office calling him a frog-fucker, which hadn't gone very far to help his daughter's case. Winry hadn't been happy when he told her, and had told him in no uncertain terms to learn some discretion, but he'd yet to feel guilty for his words.

Alphonse winced at his brothers words, knowing how much of a shit move it was on the teachers part, and put a piece of pie into his mouth, which he chewed around thoughtfully before replying.

"The strategies from the speech therapist still aren't working then?"

Ed shook his head, taking a sip from his coffee and just spending a moment allowing the bitter heat to fill his mouth and slide down his throat in a moment of pure bliss. He sat back in his chair and gave his brother a saddened look.

"She does the picture exchanging well enough, but she's still tight lipped. She can write down the words she knows, but she's not got the best handwriting and is slow at it, ya know. It's a really slow way of communicating and we both know it, so it means I get basic information from her." He explained. It wasn't the first time he'd explained it, but Al never made him feel like he was going over old ground. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to find a way to tell Al about Freya without going in to the whole Mustang debacle. Especially since he was feeling guilty about probably being the cause of their failed relationship. "A woman taught her a couple of words of sign language the other day, and she picked that up like a duck to water, but that woman has gone back to Central so I need to find someone else that can teach us."

Alphonse stirred his cinnamon cream drink that pretended to be coffee with a long spoon and rested his elbow on the table, looking at Edward carefully. He finished stirring, tapped his spoon on the side of the mug, and placed it on the saucer beside it.

"Won't sign language stop her from needing to speak?" He asked, and Ed thought back to his conversation with Freya, where he had questioned the same thing. It was a logical conclusion, but now he shook his head and told Al what Freya had told him.

"The part of our brains that are responsible for hand gestures is right next to the part of our brain that is responsible for speech, which is why so many people talk with their hands." He explained, only realising as he was saying it that he too was talking whilst throwing his hands about to emphasise his points. He gave a slightly embarrassed laugh, but was glad to see his gesticulating had made Al look slightly more convinced of his point. "People like Maesie, who can hear but not speak, have been using sign for ages to develop their speaking, hearing the words alongside the sign it… stimulates that part of the brain and helps them begin to talk, I guess."

Ed knew it was a long shot. He'd been waiting to hear his little girl talk for almost seven years, he wasn't expecting someone who could move their hands around a lot to be the miracle he and his family had been waiting for, but he was desperate enough to cling on to any string dangled in front of him. If he could reach through the Portal of Truth and drag his brother's body back from the white world of a faceless god, then he could most certainly find a way to help his daughter communicate better. He would do anything to do that.

Alphonse took a long drink from his mug and said nothing, and it was his silence that finally spurred Edward on into spilling the upset from the last week.

"Actually, that woman who taught Maesie some sign… she was Mustang's girlfriend."

Al, almost predictably, choked on his drink and slammed it down on the table hard enough that some sloshed over the edge and he had to withdraw his fingers from the heat of it. He stared at his brother with wide, incredulous eyes, and then let out a disbelieving chuckle, wiping the spit from his chin and looked around the restaurant as if they were being watched by reporters – which hadn't happened for years. Edward, who had been expecting this kind of reaction from his little brother, felt a pool of shame settle in his stomach. Alphonse had not been happy when three and a half years ago he had read about Edward's sexuality, and his sexually charged relationship with the man who had indoctrinated him into the military, through a newspaper. Mostly he was upset that Edward hadn't confided in him, but the subject of Roy Mustang and Ed's attraction to him was still borderline taboo amongst the brothers.

"Mustang as in Colonel Roy Mustang? Who you worked under for four years, and then fucked when you were working for him as a bodyguard?" He asked, leaning forward to whisper conspiratorially, tone dripping in accusations Ed didn't want to address.

Edward, in lieu of confessing all the sordid details of how he might have accidentally broken up a three year relationship to his brother, rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair a little further because suddenly it felt as is Al was in his personal space.

"Technically he's not been a Colonel for a long time." He replied, because Al's questions were clearly rhetorical. How many Mustang's could they know?

Ed had, of course, come clean to Alphonse about his journey of self-discovery and learning where he liked to put his dick, once the newspapers had come out with their 'expose'. Alphonse had phoned him the day it had been circulated and chewed him out thoroughly for allowing him to find out through print. Ed hadn't told Al any details (he really didn't think Al was ready to know how Edward had spent many months fucking Ling whilst they were supposed to be in Xing for research) but he had confessed that he had cheated on Winry. Alphonse hadn't been happy, to say the least. Edward had put up with almost an entire week of silent treatment until Mei had managed to convince Alphonse to forgive his brother, arranging for the two of them to take a fishing trip whilst she and Winry took Sasha and Maesie to the local fun-day. Al had spat at him that if he ever hurt Winry again they were going to have a fist-fight, and then spent the rest of the afternoon telling Ed how upset he was that Edward hadn't trusted him to know about his sexuality. Ed had attempted to reassure Al that his tight-lipped secret keeping over his bisexuality hadn't been personal (in reality, he'd always figured Al probably already knew) and they'd moved past it. Mostly. Al had also confessed to being pretty put-out that Ed would sleep with a man fourteen years his senior, and Ed had almost upended the boat they were in when his brother shyly asked if Ed liked older men for a specific reason. Alphonse was, clearly, still cagey about the mentioning of the Flame Alchemist, and every now and again wasn't above making back-handed comments about how long Ed had kept his bisexuality a secret.

"He moved out East." Ed confessed.

The words spoke volumes. Alphonse took another, more controlled, drink of his coffee, and then placed it back down gently. He gave his brother a considerate look, and at least half of it was pity. Edward had told Alphonse about the promise he and Roy had made on their fishing trip, in an attempt to explain to Al that his attraction to Mustang wasn't purely about sex. Al had given him a look at the time that was equal parts worry and condescension, and when asked about it the younger of the Elric brothers had shaken his head and said 'obviously' in such a way that Ed felt as if he'd just had his past thoroughly examined.

"Ah." He replied. It was clear Alphonse felt the same as Edward, that Roy moving East after all these years wasn't something to jump happily at, but more of an awkward complication. Al probably more so than Edward, who had not made it a secret that he wanted Edward to settle down with someone who would co-parent with him and take some of the load off of his brother. Neither of them could see Roy as the family-man type. "But you said they were moving back to Central?" He asked in a more hopeful tone.

Edward winced. He had been hoping to avoid this particular topic, but it seemed that had been a fruitless hope.

"Freya's moving back to Central." He responded carefully, not looking at his brother. "Roy's staying here."

Alphonse rose an eyebrow at him, breathing out steadily through his nose.

"Home-wrecker." He assessed. Ed would have been pissed if he hadn't said it in a teasing tone. Unfortunately for Al, he had no idea how on the money his assessment was. The eldest blonde sighed and continued to sip at his coffee without looking at his little brother, but his discomfort must have shown on his face, because the silence stretched between them and Al whistled lowly. "Damn, brother." He breathed. "What happened?"

Edward shifted uncomfortably. What hadn't happened? He'd all but bragged to a man's long-term-live-in-girlfriend that three and a half years prior he'd fucked her boyfriend into the bedsheets and the day after they had promised to pick things up where they left off, should their living arrangements change. The more he thought about it, the more of a dick-move it was. He hadn't done it deliberately, but if he was Freya in that situation he would have dumped Roy's ass in seconds – and if he was Roy in that situation… well, he couldn't entirely blame the man for coming over to make it known he wasn't happy. He still didn't agree with everything the man had said – and he still believed that his relationship with Freya had been broken long before they moved to East City – but he couldn't begrudge the man his anger.

"I dunno," He huffed in self-pity. "I'm now neighbours with my ex-CO, who I've historically not been all that professional around, and two days after he moved here he breaks up with his girlfriend." He replied, burying his head in his hands and resting his elbows on the table. He allowed himself a small woeful moan. Alphonse reached across and patted his shoulder gently.

"I don't think you can really wrap up sleeping with him under the blanket-umbrella of unprofessional." He supplied helpfully, which at least made Ed laugh a little. Then the youngest Elric did one of his amazing leaps of logic that Edward would have been able to do himself in his teenage years and yet evaded him more and more in fatherhood. He rather viciously hoped the same would happen to Al once baby came along. "So if the girlfriend knew this sign language, then maybe Mustang does too, and if Mustang's staying in the area then..."

Edward tried really hard not to purse his lips into a pout, because he knew what Al was getting at, and it did make logical sense. He had a recollection of Freya telling him that Roy knew the language as well, and he had seen first hand the man communicating with his girlfriend silently. It wouldn't be quite the same as having someone qualified teach them, as Freya was, but he did know the signs and that's all Ed needed for now. He had said he would do anything to help Maesie speak, but the issue was… well, having legitimately slapped the man like a jealous ex earlier in the week he wasn't yet willing to make contact with the General. He still wouldn't apologise for being angry at Mustang – Roy was clearly taking his relationship issues out on Ed – but he did feel guilty about attacking the man. Especially when Roy had flinched so horridly when Ed had raised his hand again.

He chewed on his lip. Mustang looked thinner than Ed remembered, and Ed couldn't forget the horrible incident that had happened when Ed was his bodyguard three and half years prior. Physically attacking him was never okay, but especially not towards a man who had gone through something as psychologically damaging as a sexual assault. Freya had explained to him, as well, that Roy was not psychologically okay following what had happened three and a half years ago. He sighed. Maybe he should apologise.

And maybe if he did then he at least had an excuse to talk to Mustang, and he could shove away his pride and plead for the older man to help him and his family. For Maesie. He was a little surprised at Al suggesting it, if he was being entirely honest, but he shot his younger brother a quick smile, sipping some more of his coffee.

"Yeah, I should ask him." He heard himself saying, and Alphonse grinned back at him across the small table like he'd just confessed to winning the lottery. Then he adopted a slightly more serious look and pinned his older brother with a stare that told him he already knew the answer to whatever his next question was going to be, so Ed better not even think about lying.

"So, still think he's hot?" The younger Elric asked, and Ed would have denied it, but he could tell he was already blushing at the straightforward question. Slowly, he nodded his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's unfair, really." He replied, not looking at Al. "No man should be that pretty."

Alphonse made a face as if he couldn't understand what Ed saw in Mustang, which was very likely the case, because Alphonse had complained loudly and at considerable length about Mustang's age, and his unsuitability for Ed, any time he could get someone to listen, when Edward had first confessed the extent of his relationship with his ex-CO, and any time the General was mentioned thereafter. Then he sighed.

"It's no use." He mumbled, "I'm going to have to bring home some of these sweets for Mei."

* * *

Running an entire command centre meant working Saturdays. It meant working Sundays as well, more often than not, and Roy was already feeling the strain of upping his workload. He'd been working until at least eight every night since his arrival, and he didn't even have a weekend to look forward to. His next scheduled day off was a Sunday two weeks from then. He made himself feel slightly better by declaring as he waltzed in that morning that he would be leaving the office at five o'clock on the dot.

He wasn't sure why he was so worried about getting time at home, though, because it wasn't as if he had anyone there waiting. Freya had packed up her things on Thursday, whilst Roy had been at work, clearing out her wardrobe, bathroom accessories, books and trinkets, and left for Central that night. She'd even taken the cat, which was a loss Roy felt more wretchedly than he was willing to admit out loud. On Friday he had tried calling her at her parents house, and her overbearing mother had told him she didn't want to speak with him, but at least that told Roy she had made it to Central and she was safe. Hating the emptiness of the house, and jumping at every sound outside, he had ended up working until ten, then he'd drunk himself stupid in the cosy living room of the house that was supposed to be theirs and ended up sleeping on the sofa in his uniform.

Luckily the rules around HQ on a Saturday were lax, and although he was supposed to be setting an example, it was enough for him to be wearing a nice shirt and tie, and he didn't need to be in full uniform, since yesterdays was in dire need of a wash, having drunkenly sweated on it, and his spare was still packed up somewhere in boxes. He dawdled into the office with his head down, shuffled through the team's desks and headed straight for his private office, fully intending to close the door and ignore the world whilst he nursed his hangover for a bit.

What he hadn't expected was to come face to face with Edward Elric, sat with his arms crossed over his chest and looking terribly awkward on the chintzy heather sofa. Roy stopped in the doorway, and then glanced back out at his team, who were all pretending not to watch him, and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Ed stood, and Roy gave him a wide berth as he travelled the room and stood behind his desk. Now Edward was no longer sat Roy no longer wanted to sit either, but he felt it might keep them both a little more professional if he kept the large desk between them. Judging by the flicker of his eyes down to the wooden surface, Edward knew exactly what he was doing. Honestly, Roy thought he'd managed to avoid this confrontation when Ed hadn't turned up in his office on Thursday morning, but it was very like Edward to stew on something for three days before going at it for another round.

"I'm sorry I hit you."

Roy stared at the blonde across from him for a moment, internally freaking out. He had expected Ed to be there to shout at him some more, and chew him out for being so rude. And Roy knew he had been rude. There were a lot of things he'd said to Edward in anger that he hadn't meant. What he hadn't expected was an apology – especially not without having to wrangle for one. Ed continued to just get more and more adult in their times apart. Roy wished he could say the same for himself. He had almost cost himself two friendships the night Freya had broken things off with him, in his panic and anger, and he couldn't let himself forget that.

He nodded his head, and sat down behind the desk, making a motion with his hand for Ed to take a seat again, as if the man was still under his command. He half expected Ed to protest, but the blonde just settled down into the sofa without complaint, despite his face looking like he was dying to moan about the sofas themselves. Roy wanted to tell him that Freya had picked them, but then that bought to mind their argument, and that Freya would want her share of the equity from the house so she could set herself up in Central again, and that things were about to get very complicated for him. He wasn't sure if he was ready to start sifting through that mess.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you." He finally replied, pretending to be looking over some paperwork on his desk that he had, in fact, already signed. The blonde man settled a little more firmly into the sofa cushions.

"I'm sorry I mentioned that stupid promise. I really wasn't trying to break you guys up, I just didn't realise it was a big deal, because it's not, is it? It's not a big deal to me." He stopped, frowning slightly, and Roy could see this conversation rapidly spiralling into them both slinging apologies at each other for every perceived wrong-doing that had taken place in their life-times. He went to cut the man off, to find a way to finish the conversation and part on at least mutual terms, but then Edward continued talking in a way that reminded Roy somewhat of a bragging teen. "I have been dating, you know. It's not like I've been pining. I get out."

Or perhaps not a bragging teen, but someone desperate to show they did have a life beyond caring for their two children. Roy allowed himself to give the man a confirmatory nod, trying not to smile at how obvious it was that Edward was trying to prove himself. It was cute. A moment later he bit down on his lip, because putting Ed and cute in the same sentence was not a thought process he should really allow himself. Especially not three days after Freya had walked out of his life citing that he was clearly still interested in the blonde now in front of him. Proving her right felt like another betrayal.

"I'm sure your personal life is none of my concern." He said, putting down the already signed documents and wondering why Ed hadn't already left. If he'd only come to apologise then he had said he piece, and if it had been Roy in that situation then he couldn't imagine wanting to stay for a moment longer than necessary.

He ogled the other man slightly from across the room. Edward had taken off his long dark coat and draped it over his arm, revealing a forest green turtle neck underneath and some dark grey slacks. Freya had a similar outfit, except the slacks were a dark grey skirt, and he found himself smirking as he imagined Ed cutting his blonde locks into a bob like his girlfriend – _Ex girlfriend_ he reminded himself – had. Ed's hair was once more haphazardly slapped up on top of his head in a bun, which Roy supposed was the simplest way of keeping it all in one place when he was running around after his kids, and in the years that had passed since Roy had last seen the man he was no less muscular. His glasses were a little lopsided on his nose, but Ed didn't seem to notice. Roy hated himself for his obvious attraction to the blonde, even after all those years. Edward shifted slightly on the sofa and looked around the office awkwardly.

"Actually, well… this is going to sound awful after what happened the other day." He tried, and then seemed to stop and re-evaluate what he wanted to say, because he stood rather rapidly from the sofa and began pacing, rubbing at his neck. He sighed. "Actually… maybe I should just… that sounds bad too."

Roy got the very distinct impression Edward was actually talking to himself, as everything coming out of his mouth made little sense and clearly wasn't aimed at him. There was something Ed wanted to say, sure, perhaps some favour he wanted to ask – but the memory of their argument the other day was stopping him from asking for what he wanted. Roy put his hands down on the desk and watched for a moment, but when Edward continued to pace and speak under his breath to himself, finally he rolled his eyes and decided to put the younger man out of his self-imposed misery.

"Did you want to grab a drink or something – have a catch up?" He asked, and then hastily backtracked when Ed looked at him like he'd just proclaimed Amestris had passed a law which allowed people to marry their pets. "Just as friends. It can't hurt anyone to have a drink with an old friend, can it?"

Then Ed's expression formed into one of great relief and Roy felt rather proud of himself for calming the boy down and putting them more on equal footing. He'd make a politician of himself yet. After a moment Ed nodded, and he pulled out a small notebook from his trousers pocket and flipped it open.

"The kids are at Winry's until seven tonight. Or Friday they'll be at hers overnight. Otherwise I need to get a baby-sitter." He explained, and Roy imagined he was looking over his calendar mostly for show.

Although he had made the mistake of underestimating the man's dating prowess once before, and had been wowed into near-speechlessness at how romantic Edward could be. There was, he reminded himself, no reason to believe that Edward wasn't spending most nights with a warm body next to him – two children would be unlikely to stop a man as handsome, young and brilliant as Edward finding a willing partner. Except for the fact that Edward seemed to be taking deliberate steps to make it clear to Roy that he _did_ have a life outside of his two cherubs, and that in itself spoke volumes about how, in all likeliness, he didn't.

That evening seemed a little too soon to deal with all the flared up emotions Fullmetal seemed to bring out in him, and since he'd had an interruption to his morning there was no guarantee that he wouldn't get out of work a little late. If Ed had to be back home by seven, there was the possibility they wouldn't have managed to drag out whatever it was Ed needed help with. The man was still prideful, after all. Friday, with the children seconded to their mother's until the next morning, seemed like a more logical bet. He could also make sure to arrange to be out of the office at a reasonable time if he buttered up the rest of the team. Nodding his head to his own train of thought he picked up a post it note and scribbled down Friday's date and 'drink with Ed'.

"Friday then, it's a date." He said instinctively, and then winced. "I mean… fuck, you know what I mean."

Ed was grinning at him now, so he could assume that any awkwardness the boy had felt coming into the office had finally lifted itself from him.

"I'll pick you up at eight." He replied jovially. "I know just the place."

Which was just as well because Roy was woefully unknowledgable regarding East City's bars and where was a good place to grab a drink. He nodded once more at his ex-subordinate and felt himself relaxing as Ed turned towards the door to make his exit. Roy was just congratulating himself on not making an absolute fool out of himself during his latest interaction with the man, when Ed turned around in the doorway, the door swung open so the rest of the office would be able to hear, and pinned Roy with a look that Roy could only describe as downright flirty.

"Wear something nice." He smirked, and then exited the office with Roy trying hard not to flush in his wake.

A moment later Havoc was at the door with a cigarette between his fingers, levelling Roy with one raised eyebrow and a teasing smirk.

"Shut up." Roy commanded, although Havoc hadn't said anything. The smoker raised his hands in mock surrender and turned back to the main office, leaving Roy to wonder how he felt about Edward and his opportunistic teasing, and more importantly… what he would wear on Friday.

* * *

Edward drove over to Alphonse's flat the moment he'd left Roy's office, since he'd left his kids with their uncle during the time he had been apologising to Mustang. He parked up on the curb outside the building, took the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door with the number twenty-two stamped on it. Twenty seconds later the door was flung open by a very smiley, very pregnant Mei Chang.

"How's my favourite honorary Elric?" Ed asked, stepping in when she moved aside and sweeping the Xingese lady into a loose hug, planting a rather sloppy kiss on her forehead, since it wasn't often that he was taller than someone and he had to make the most of it. She giggled at him and playfully pushed him away as he said: "Thanks for looking after kids, have they been good?"

"Absolute tiger cubs." She responded, which Ed had come to learn was her version of 'little rascals'.

He gave her a slightly strained smile, because he knew from experience how overly hyper the two of them could be, and followed her into the kitchen, where Alphonse was concentrating hard on piping some sloppy looking icing on to a cupcake that had visible egg-shell stick out of it. Both of his blonde terrors were sat on the opposite side of the island with identical looks of fascination on their faces, and Alphonse had his tongue stuck out in concentration.

"Like a flower, Uncle Al." Sasha informed him solemnly. Alphonse fumbled the piping bag and the entire bag burst, sending buttercream everywhere.

"Flip." He said, although he didn't look too upset by the incident. Ed would have sworn, but in retrospect, Ed swore at most things. The younger Elric looked up, buttercream coating his finger tips, smiled at his brother and proceeded to lick the icing from his digits. Sasha and Maesie both made a grab for the wooden spoons left in the bowl.

"There's raw egg in that." Edward told them, although he wasn't overly concerned, and both of them ignored him anyway. It also looked as if cracking the egg-shells had happened only when the children had dropped the whole egg into the bowl, and no one had bothered fishing the shards out – but Ed wasn't going to point that out. He wasn't going to eat anything offered to him either, but that was just the logic of knowing that his kids picked their noses and very rarely used soap when washing their hands.

Alphonse finished devouring the icing from his fingers and washed the oily butter remnants away under the tap.

"So how'd it go with General Mustang?" He asked, acting casual but with a lilt to his tone that told Edward that the nonchalance was for show. He sat down at the island with his kids and avoided putting his elbows in the dusting of sugar and flour over the counter-top.

"We're going to have a drink on Friday." He confessed, swiping his finger through the sugar-flour mess and doodling a little heart.

Alphonse turned from the tap and levelled him a hard look, but Edward deliberately kept his attention on his drawings, and added a little arrow piercing through the heart.

"A drink, huh?" Alphonse asked, still carefully casual. "Did you mention the sign-language thing, or just jump straight to asking him out?"

Ed added a face to the heart that had it's eyes screwed up in pain, and little arms and hands that were clenched over the arrow-wound.

"He asked me, actually." He responded, still not looking up. "It's a good idea though. I thought maybe I could ask him when we're not sat in his office – it might make it more casual."

Alphonse sat down on the opposite side of the island. Ed added a speech bubble over his heart and wrote the word 'ow' inside it.

"He asked you?" He repeated, sounding surprised. Edward wondered whether he should be annoyed by that. He sighed, swiping his hand over the doodle so it was just a sugar-flour mess again, and looked up at his brother, pinning him a defiant look.

"Yes, he asked me." He shot back. "For a drink. On Friday. I was thinking The Emperor's Sword – near the Uni."

"Wont you run into students there?" Asked Mei, taking a wash-cloth from by the sink and making a valiant attempt to wipe up the remnants of the baking creations Alphonse and the children had been playing with. Ed smiled at her.

"Nah – they stick more to the clubs. The Sword has a good, quiet energy for having a decent conversation." He replied. Alphonse was looking at him like he knew his careful casualness over the topic of Roy Mustang was all for show, but he didn't say anything while Mei was clearing up the rest of their failed cupcakes. When she was done, however, and had her back turned to them washing out the cloth in the sink, he clicked his tongue.

"I heard the Sword's a popular spot for a date." He mumbled, which Ed could not deny made his face colour slightly. He also couldn't deny the truth in his brothers words – it was a popular pub for romantic evenings.

"It's just a pub I know – it's close to Uni, they know me there, I can get cheap drinks." He tried to excuse.

"Who's General Mustang?" Sasha asked, stopping in his licking of the cake-mix for a moment to give his father a curious look. Ed pursed his lips.

"You've met him." He confessed, "remember the man from the park? His first name's -"

"Roy."

Edward rose an eyebrow at his son.

"Uh, yeah." He replied. "How'd you know?" He asked, racking his brain to think if they had been properly introduced to Roy over the last few days. Sasha looked back at the spoon as if wondering he could get any more sugary goodness from it.

"We slept over at his house once." He supplied, as if Ed was ridiculous for not leaping to the conclusion that Sasha would remember something that happened almost four years ago, when the boy was three. "He did your hair all pretty, with a ribbon."

Ed went to respond to his kid, but was interrupted by Alphonse, who had slammed his hands down on the island counter top and was looking at Ed with wide, amused eyes.

" _What_?" He asked, grin slipping on to his face. "Please tell me there's pictures of you with a damned ribbon in your hair."

Ed was not going to be living that one down any time soon.


	6. Three Years of Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You don't have to go back there tonight." He said, voice pitched low and eyes smouldering in a way that reminded Edward why Roy was called the Flame Alchemist

By the time half six on Friday finally rolled around, Roy had promised himself that in the future he would never tell Jean or Riza anything. Both of them had been hinting heavily all week that his rendezvous with Edward due that evening was more than it really was, and Roy was getting real tired of trying to persuade them otherwise. Sympathy over Freya's departure had lasted only a few measly days, before excitement over the idea of him getting 'back together' (as Havoc put it) with Ed took over. Roy eventually had to sit his two friends down and order them to stop talking about it, which he would expect to have to do with Havoc, but was slightly disappointed in Riza about.

She had come over on the Thursday night and helped him pick an outfit, however, and she hadn't mentioned anything to Havoc about his want for her to come over and help him pick out something suitable, so he could allow her some girlish twittering every now and again.

He packed up his bag and placed the last of the documents he'd have to look over in a folder and squeezed that in too, because he'd probably have to look over them at some point that night if he ever hoped of leaving the office at a reasonable time on Saturday. Then he shuffled out into the main office where Breda was scratching his inner ear with his pen and Fallman appeared to be checking Fuery for lice. Roy decided not to ask. He vaguely debated ordering them all to do some actual work for once in their lives, but they barely had respect for him at the best of times, and half-six on a Friday evening when he was about to leave the office to catch up with an ex-subordinate he'd once slept with, was not the best of times.

"Ready for your big date, chief?" Havoc asked from his spot by the window, where, if Roy wasn't mistaken, he was attempting to write 'help me' backwards in the mist. Roy rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that week.

"It's not a date." He tried, although he knew it was a useless denial at that point. Havoc looked over his shoulder and winked at him.

"Sure, sure." He replied, and Roy was forcibly reminded that Havoc still believed Roy had feelings for Ed that went beyond friendship. He sighed and shouldered his bag, looking to escape as quickly as possible, but Jean had hopped down from his spot by the window and collected his things from his desk. "Want me to give you a ride home so you don't ruin your perfect hair in this rain?" The man teased, and it gave Roy pause. Regardless of his hair, which _was_ pretty perfect, nobody would want to walk home in the rain – and getting a lift would mean cutting down his journey considerably and scraping the need for a shower on arrival. The only con would be listening to Jean tease him for five minutes, but Roy had dealt with that all week, so he figured five minutes more wasn't going to hurt him. He gave the man an appreciative smile and nodded.

Jean probably just wanted an excuse to leave the office too. Roy couldn't deny him that. They were about to leave when Riza grabbed her coat and followed them out, and Roy suddenly got the distinct impression he was about to be ambushed.

As the three of them walked down to the car Riza pulled out a folder from under her arm and flipped it open, casually reading it as if she didn't know every word off by heart. Roy had seen her do this trick at least seventy times now, and wasn't surprised when she began talking without looking at him, still pretending to read the file.

"Public opinion of you has spiked a little since Freya's departure. Apparently many women are glad you're back on the market, and others feel she's walked out on you unfairly." She told him. "Freya being the one to decide to end things was probably the best thing she could do for you."

It felt a little unfair that the relationship he'd had for the last three years had been reduced down to a few facts and figures, and Roy couldn't help but be wistful that even in breaking up with him Freya had actually managed to help his career. He wondered whether it would be insensitive to send a bunch of flowers as a thank-you, and then if they would be taken as a bid to get back together. He hated himself that since her walking out, after his initial shock of being dumped, a sense of relief had washed over him. He had never loved her, and now he didn't need to be the one to have the conversation and tell her that – she had decided to end things for herself, and that was probably for the best, so long as Roy could find a way to apologise for how he had acted in their last argument, and rekindle their friendship.

He did love her, he told himself, but it hadn't been fair to try and label the platonic love he had for her as the kind of love she craved in a stupid bid to keep her with him. He remembered Edward telling him that the man had needed to let Winry move on from him, and felt he might be in a similar situation with Freya. The woman had given him her all, and he had never returned those feelings, so it was time to let her live her life and hopefully find someone who would give her all the love she deserved. Roy could never be that person for her.

He slipped into the back seat of the car, with Havoc driving up front, and Riza fell into place next to him and sent him a considered look. He fought the urge to ask if there was anything on his face.

"What's my best move now, then?"

The blonde woman allowed herself a shrug of her shoulders and looked out the window as Havoc started driving; pulling them out of the underground car-park and into the torrential rain. The sheets of icy water sprayed against the window and made it difficult to see much beyond lights outside of the car.

"I've constantly been surprised at how much what happened back then hasn't effected your political standing." She confessed to the window, voice soft. "Play MFK with me." She ordered after. Roy bit his lip, but hummed his agreement, and she turned to him with chestnut brown eyes swimming with mischief. "Edward Elric."

Roy had been expecting her to say that particular name, but he waited patiently for her to come up with two more, and when she didn't he frowned at her.

"What?" He asked, and Riza offered him a small twitch of a smile.

"Would you marry, fuck, or kill him?"

Ah. Roy liked playing that game when he could hide some of his choices under the guise of a process of elimination, but this variation felt much more telling. He glanced towards the front of the car, where Havoc was driving, and noted the man glancing back at him through the rear-view mirror with a teasing look in his eyes. He knew he was in good company, and although his friends played with him, they did have his back, but it didn't mean he appreciated the ambush. He looked out the window himself and crossed his arms over his chest. All he knew at this point is that Ed certainly didn't fall into the 'kill' category, and there was too much history between them for him to comfortably fall into the 'fuck and forget' category. However, 'marry' seemed a little extreme for two people who had only successfully managed one date before not seeing each other for almost another four years. They kept missing huge chunks of each-other's lives, and that didn't exactly spell out a happy ending.

"What are you trying to get me to confess, Hawkeye?" He finally asked. "Edward and I are going for a drink, because I'm pretty sure he wants to ask me a favour, not because we're in love."

Maybe, once upon a time, Roy had entertained the idea of something more than a quick fuck between he and Ed, but time had moved on, their lives had moved on, and he couldn't just go back in time and make everything the same as it was back then. Riza folded her hands on her lap as if she was about to bow her head to pray, and licked her lips.

"I'm just saying. Back then you didn't have a choice – there was no way it would have worked out with the papers breathing down your necks. But now… now you do. So what's your choice?"

Roy didn't answer her. He stared out the window and thought about three and half years ago, when he and Ed had sat in the kitchen of his flat in Central and decided not to pursue anything between them because the timing wasn't right. He had moved to East City with a long-term girlfriend, and the timing hadn't been right a week ago either, but if Riza was to believed, maybe this time they at least had a chance. He sighed – not that his drink with Ed was anything more than a drink, but if it had been a date… how would Roy be feeling at that moment? Would he even want to explore their relationship beyond that one evening?

* * *

Roy Mustang was a bit of a dream-boat, if Ed was being honest – and honestly he hated himself for using the expression dream-boat, but he couldn't think of a more suitable one that he could say in front of children. And speaking of children, Ed was really glad he didn't have to worry about his own kids for the entire evening, because chances are as soon as he managed to drop Roy back home he would be curling himself up under the blankets for some Ed-time. At forty, the General was still as soft-skinned and pale as ever, with slim shoulders, fine black hair that only had a couple of greys in around the ears, and long dark lashes that were damn-near feminine. Ed opened the passenger side door for him and the General rolled his eyes but said nothing as he slipped into the seat.

"You wont be drinking?" The man asked when Ed crawled into the drivers seat and buckled up.

The blonde watched his companion take a not-so-discreet glance over of the car, and whilst Ed had tidied up the front, he had forgotten about the back. Now he was very aware of the two booster seats covered in crumbs and the crisp packets on the floor, nestled amongst Maesie's bunny toy that came to life entirely of it's own accord and would start singing 'Some bunny loves you!' whenever Ed had to pop out in the middle of the night. It would make him jump so hard that he had on more than one occasion almost wrapped his car around a tree in sheer panic. He shook his head as he put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb, checking his mirror behind him and not looking at his companion, even though Roy looked nothing short of perfection in some tight levi's and a slate-grey jumper with a zipped collar.

"You kind of just stop when you have kids." He replied, and then felt awkward because if he knew anything it was not to mention that you had kids on a first date.

Except this wasn't actually a date, Ed reminded himself, despite teasing Roy about it. And besides, even if it had been, Roy already knew of Ed's fatherhood. He drove them out of the suburbs and into the city itself, taking the same roads he took into work, and then into his usual spot in the university's Alchemy Building's (dubbed Flamel Centre) car-park.

"It's not a long walk." He told his ex-colleague, and Roy exited the car and followed Ed happily.

They walked away from the car and down the large street behind the Flamel Centre that was host to a range of large clubs and trendy bars, and then further still down a small alleyway and into a small, fairly shabby looking pub with a sign over the door of two swords making an X shape and some laurel leaves, and the name of the pub; The Emperor's Sword. It was close enough to Uni that Edward had managed to end up there once or twice with work friends, and small and shabby enough not to attract too many students. Ed opened the door for Roy, and then instinctively guided him through it with a hand on the small of his back. Roy walked through and turned back to him with a small half-smile that looked a little nostalgic.

Ed returned it, only feeling a little strained, and waved Roy over to a table a little further back into the pub, where Roy settled himself on one side looking a bit prim and proper. Ed would be fooled if he couldn't vividly remember the same man getting black out drunk in a bar and all but dancing on the tables, before dragging Ed home with him and puking on the carpet before demanding to be cuddled off to sleep. The Roy of almost four years later, however, seemed to have himself under control, and folded his hands on the table in front of him, looking only a small amount awkward at their careful politeness around each other.

Ed took the man's order, and went to the bar to order them both a drink, returning a few minutes later with a predictable two fingers of scotch for Roy and some lemonade from the tap for himself. He sat opposite the man with a small, rueful smile, and chinked their glasses together when Roy offered his as an olive branch.

"I really am sorry for hitting you." He said, eyes flickering down to Roy's hands, covered in his ignition gloves. When he thought about it, Ed couldn't remember seeing Roy without them on since the other man's arrival in East City. He wondered if that, like the flinching, was in any way connected to the assault Roy had suffered three and a half years ago. He'd never really thought about it, but it appeared it had effected his psyche more than probably even Roy realised.

The older man shook his head as if waving away Ed's apology.

"I think Freya was probably right to go back to Central, even though it's going to be a shit-show when she realises she wants her share of the house, and it's three years of our lives down the drain." He explained in a quiet, thoughtful voice. "You once told me that you never really loved Winry romantically, but you wouldn't change how things happened because the pay-off was your kids. I think the same could be said for my feelings towards Freya, in that I know I'm a better man because she loved me."

Ed raised an eyebrow at his companion.

"That's deep." He mumbled, and was rewarded with a small smirk that reminded him of all the times Roy had been sat behind a large desk and Ed had been a teenager, wanting to punch the smirk directly off his CO's face. Ed had memories of finding the smirk vaguely attractive in his teenage years, although he would never have admitted it, not even to himself. Now was an entirely different story. Now he wanted to lean over the table and kiss the damned smirk away.

Getting involved with Roy would be in poor taste though, given that he'd just been dumped and that Ed was probably responsible for that. Besides, he wanted Roy mostly because it would help Maesie, and he was perfectly capable of ignoring his niggling attraction to man – at least until he'd extracted the information of signing from him. Then whether he jumped the man was entirely a matter of figuring out if Roy still wanted that too. He sipped on his lemonade as Roy made a non-committal sound, and then the General leant back in his seat and surveyed Ed for a moment.

"You wear your glasses now – all the time."

Ed felt a little taken aback by the confession that Roy had noticed something changing about his appearance, and then mortified that what the man had noticed was the addition that now he needed to wear his glasses almost twenty-four/seven. A little over a year prior he'd finally had to relent that he wasn't able to drive, or read, or look at complex Alchemy theories without them, and they'd become a permanent feature. Now they were almost like a part of his face, and he had forgotten that the last time he had seen Roy that he had been shy about wearing them. Slowly, a little reluctantly, he nodded, and tried desperately to think of something to comment on that had changed in Roy's life in the last few years, but the man was still infuriatingly the same as ever.

"I work at the university now." He said, instead, as if it explained his continuing dependency on glasses – and in reality it probably did. Roy nodded at him.

"That kind of job suits you, I think. More than VGA did."

Edward pushed a stray few strands of his long blonde hair behind his ear and tried not to show how affected this awkward small talk was making him. He couldn't remember ever feeling so pushed for conversation with the older man, and it was beginning to annoy him. He tapped his foot under the table.

"And you?" He asked. "You get another promotion?"

Roy looked about as uncomfortable in the small talk as Ed was, but neither of them were pushing the conversation in a specific way. The dark haired man gave a small grimace.

"Full fledged General now. I'm overseeing the Eastern Command Centre."

Ed nodded back, and then drank some more of his lemonade for something to do. He watched as Roy took a small sip of his scotch and then sighed.

"Look -" He said, just as Roy began to speak.

"How's the kids?"

It was a massively neutral topic, one Roy probably knew would get Ed to open up and talk more, and Ed was glad because it also gave him an excuse to talk about Maesie and steer them towards why Ed had gone to Roy's office to begin with. He gulped down his nerves.

"Actually, that's why I wanted to talk to you." He confessed. He had to reason to worry, he told himself, there was no reason to think Roy wouldn't agree to teach him sign. The man was a busy, of course, but Ed could probably fit around his schedule, and he was willing to pay. "I don't know if Freya told you, but Maesie is non-verbal."

He was looking at the table, but he looked up to see Roy nodding, and having expected to see pity in the other man's eyes he was pleasantly surprised to see nothing but acceptance. Ed tried to formulate the right way to phrase his request in his mind, but before he'd figured it out the General seemed to cotton on before Ed could speak.

"Oh, Freya was going to teach you sign." He breathed, and when Ed gave a small nod he rubbed a hand at the hair on the back of his neck and looked away. "I see, and now you're hoping maybe I can teach you instead."

Ed had an awful feeling in his stomach that Mustang was building up to reject him, and quickly tried to get all of his points across in a slightly panicked rush.

"I can pay, and I can fit around you, and you wouldn't even have to see the kids. And I am very sorry about Freya, and I -"

"Edward!"

The blonde cut himself off quickly and stared at Roy, who was looking at him with fond amusement. He picked up his drink and sipped at it for something to do, and Roy watched the movements of his hands with dark eyes swimming with mirth. Three and a half years ago, when Edward had turned up in Central working at Roy's bodyguard, Edward had felt as if he held all the cards, but now he was constantly feeling like he wasn't even sure what game they were playing, and Mustang was back to being the authority figure that Edward could only hope to impress one day.

Ling would have a field day with his theory that Ed had daddy issues.

"I work a lot, that's my only issue." The older man told him, "of course I want to help, but I have a responsibility to the state so... it might mean some late evenings."

The idea of late evenings with Mustang was conjuring up images of other activities they could do once the children were snuggled up in bed and had very little to do with signing, and so Ed quickly looked away because there was always the faint possibility that Roy had learnt how to read minds as well in their latest absence from each other. Swallowing to wet his throat, he nodded, feeling a rush of thankfulness run through him that he quenched down in case he accidentally scare the man away with how intense those feelings were. Roy, after what seemed like a moments hesitation, reached across the table and flicked at his wrist. Warmth sprung up there and spread out over his arm, and Edward couldn't help but stare at it, and soon enough his entire body was tingling just from the tiny show of affection.

"I try and get the kids to bed by eight, so if you didn't want to deal with them then -" He tried to explain, but the other man cut him off.

"I wont be able to get to yours until half-nine at the earliest."

Ed wasn't sure that he should be as grateful as he was for the sentence, but he'd been outright lying when he said the children were asleep by eight, as more often that not they were still jumping off the walls well past nine, no matter how much Ed tried to tire them out during the day, or how often he tried to instil a routine. Roy setting the time later meant he had another hour and a half to wrestle the monsters into their room, and barricade the door if necessary. Breathing a little sigh of relief, he nodded, smiling.

"Yeah, that's perfect."

The dark haired man took another sip of his scotch and savoured the taste, his eyes slipping closed in happiness, and Ed took another moment just to appreciate the vision across from him. He'd very rarely had the opportunity to see Roy out of uniform, and invariably when he was he favoured smart suits and ties, but it seemed he had gone from something entirely more casual for their drink, and Ed couldn't tell whether that was because he was trying to steer them away from the idea of this being a date, or whether he was trying not to look like he had thought about his outfit, but either way the effect was stunning. Ed thought Roy should wear dark jeans as a matter of course, and the zip on his jumper was rolled down enough to show Ed that he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath, despite the cold weather and that he had opted to continue wearing his ignition gloves. Ed focused on those most of all; how he hadn't seen the man without them since he had arrived in East City, and how even though the white and red didn't go with his outfit at all, Roy didn't even seem to notice they were on his fingers. Ed supposed they had become like a security blanket to the other man, the same way Sasha would be absolutely fine until he'd realised he'd left Piggy at home and then would be entirely inconsolable.

"I don't mind seeing the kids, you know." Roy told him, looking at him across the table with his brow furrowed as if he had had to stop himself from saying more.

Edward knew, logically, that his children looked adorable, but he also knew how much of a handful they could be, and he didn't want Roy running for the hills before he could extract the information he needed, so he simply shrugged his shoulders in a non-committal gesture and gave a fake, but fairly convincing chuckle.

"You might change your mind there."

Roy smirked back at him with the same smirk that had always been infuriatingly attractive, and lowered his eyes in to a look that Edward could only describe as not safe for work because of how much it affected him. The other man held his gaze for a moment, and then his tongue darted out to lick the taste of scotch from his lips and Ed's leg jumped under the table entirely of it's own accord.

"Now, let's start this evening fresh, now that we've got that favour out of the way." Roy said, and Ed had never heard anything so tempting in his life. "How's Alphonse?"

Something very much like butterflies taking flight happened in Ed's chest, and he found himself entirely overcome with just how much gratitude he had for the older man because of that very simple question. In one swift move he had them firmly away from the awkward small talk and trading of favours, and back on to ground where they could actually talk. Hundreds of anecdotes from the last few years sprang fully-formed to Ed's mind, each one vying to be the first one he told Roy, and Ed found himself beaming as he sorted through the mess of information in order to find where to start, then:

"I haven't even told you that Mei's pregnant yet! Get this -"

The rest of the evening found them laughing and drinking, and sharing stories of their favourite people, and it wasn't until well past one am, when the bar staff were beginning to make it clear they wanted to make a move for the night, that Edward realised the time. They had been slowly inching closer together as they regaled each other with stories, and as Edward finally checked his watch their heads were bent close together as Roy whispered conspiratorially of the time Hawkeye had stubbed her toe whilst guarding a state official and had sworn loudly in front of most of the top tier. He had only been whispering because he was still of the opinion that Hawkeye could hear someone shit-talking about her from twenty miles away.

Edward laughed along anyway, and then made a move to gather up his coat, watching as Roy finished his glass, having swapped to lemonade with Ed half way through their evening, and stood as well. They waved goodbye to the bar staff and began walking back to the car, past the uni students who were still enjoying their Friday evening, in which Ed had tried to keep his head down in case he was recognised, and then they were driving back to their neighbourhood. They were just turning on to their street when Roy spoke up.

"Do you miss them, when they go to stay with Winry?"

Ed had tried very hard not to be thinking about how he was going back to an empty house, and how he was likely to spend the next few hours lying awake and staring at a ceiling while he tried hard not to spiral into a depression over his kids not being one room over. He pulled them up to the curb in front of Roy's house and nodded at the steering wheel.

"Of course. When they were very little I didn't spend much time with them, but they're constantly under my feet now. Even when they're at school I spend all of my time thinking about them, and reworking my day to fit in with when I have to pick them up, and what club they want to go to now, and what they'd like for dinner, and which friend is having a birthday this week that they've forgotten to tell me they're going to the party of at the weekend and 'of course Ryan needs a present daddy he's my absolute bestest friend ever' even though I've never heard of stupid Ryan before in my life. So when they're away for the night I think I'm going to love it because I'm going to have time to be myself and not just dad, but I don't think I really remember who I was before I was dad." He confessed, the words spewing out of him before he could reign them back in. He realised he didn't really have anyone to tell this to otherwise – Winry would tell him to buck up, he couldn't confide in Al because he didn't want to his brother to not be looking forward to being a father, and everyone else he knew was connected to his children in some way that made Ed feel guarded about what he told them. You couldn't tell your child's teacher that some nights you thought about locking them in the garden just for two seconds peace, because they wouldn't understand that of course you didn't mean that. He sighed. "The house gets very quiet when they're with Winry, and I should enjoy that whilst it lasts because Winry keeps trying all these tricks to get the kids to love spending time at hers, which is fine, but it means they're always super hyper when they get back and start playing me up even more. But… I don't enjoy it. I miss them. Of course I miss them."

He'd cut the engine a few minutes before, and so they were sat in a darkened car, Ed staring at the steering wheel and Roy staring at him, and then Roy unbuckled and opened his side door an inch, which flooded them both with light as the interior lights flicked on automatically, but he didn't make a move to actually exit the car. Instead he sat, staring at the dashboard for a moment, before he turned back to Ed.

"You don't have to go back there tonight." He said, voice pitched low and eyes smouldering in a way that reminded Edward why Roy was called the Flame Alchemist. It made the hair on Ed's arms stand on end, even before the insinuation of the words caught up with him. All of a sudden his throat felt really dry.

"How much have you had to drink?" He teased, but Roy only shrugged his shoulders.

"A couple, no more than two." He confessed, "This isn't a coping mechanism."

It was though. They both knew it was. It would be as much a coping mechanism for Ed's loneliness as it would be for Roy's, but at least it wasn't a massively unhealthy one. Ed could remember four years previously, with Roy's thighs on either side of his lap, Roy swaying and breathing all over Ed and all but begging Ed to fuck him – but this wasn't like that. Roy was two drinks away from stone cold sober – he could probably still drive – and he was looking at Ed like it wouldn't really matter if he said no, that he was only offering to make Ed feel better.

And fuck, did Ed want to feel better.

It was inevitable anyway, wasn't it? The two of them were clearly still attracted to each other – both of them were now single – what was stopping them?

_Nothing_ , Ed told himself, and belatedly, he nodded his head.

What followed could be described as nothing short of a _scramble_ as both men exited the car in a rush to complete what they had just agreed upon, and Roy dug in his – _oh so tight_ – jeans for his keys. Roy let them in the house with Ed's hand up the back of his jumper and his hips rocking gently against his ass, and they barely made it up the stairs before Ed had spun Roy around, crashed their lips together and crashed them back on to the bed with a laugh and a slightly pained 'oof' from Roy.

"I think you just knocked out a tooth." The older man complained, poking at his gum with his forefinger. Ed rolled his eyes, pulling the hand away from Roy's mouth and pushing his tongue in to replace it. Roy moaned as Ed coaxed the General's tongue into his own mouth and then sucked on it.

"All present and accounted for." He mumbled once he'd let his hostage go.

He ducked down a grabbed the zip of Roy's jumper in his teeth, pulling it down as his hands shot up under the wool and dragged it up, and then over Roy's head, making the General shiver delightfully. He stopped for a moment to look at the other man – the darkness of the room at one in the morning masking most of his interest, but also stopping him from seeing Roy fully. His fingers splayed over the shoulder that three and a half years prior had been a redraw, angry wound, and was now the tight, smooth skin of a scar. Roy didn't even react to the touch, so it probably didn't hurt at all. He allowed his hands to travel down the older man's arms, and hooked his fingers in the hem of his ignition gloves, which he pulled from the man, watching carefully for a response. Roy didn't seem too concerned about having them removed, but after a moment, when Ed was about to throw them on the floor to join the jumper, he spoke up.

"On the bedside table, if you will." He said, voice a little weaker than normal, confirming all of Ed's suspicions about his safety-blanket metaphor.

"Sure." He mumbled back, placing them delicately on the cabinet next to the bed, and diving back in to Roy, who wrapped his arms around the younger man's neck and sighed contentedly as Ed peppered kisses over his neck and shoulders.

A moment later, Ed's shirt and trousers had joined Roy's jumper on the floor, and he was rocking his boxer covered dick against Roy's through the General's jeans as he tried to undo the button and shimmy them down his legs. Roy was carding his fingers through his hair, and Ed was getting impatient, so neither were surprised when Ed accidentally ripped the button from the jeans entirely. Feeling sheepish, Ed went to apologise, but Roy simply threw his head back in pleasure and swore at the ceiling.

"Of course you can do that like it's nothing." He huffed, but he didn't sound upset. Especially not when two seconds later found him entirely naked, sat on the edge of the bed, with Ed kneeling between his thighs.

"Tell me you have lube and condoms." The man said, nosing at Roy's cock, and then everything came crashing down. Roy's look of agony mirrored on Ed's own face.

"Not unpacked." He confessed, the look on his face clearly showing how he hoped that wasn't going to stop Ed from leaning forward and putting his mouth to use. Ed rested his head on Roy's knee, feeling like a tease but also not willing to put anything in his mouth without proper protection, and Roy groaned unhappily. "Fuck." He cursed, then; "Okay, hold up, it will be in a box labelled bedroom, and there's only a couple left to unpack."

He stood, completely naked, and made his way to the pile of three boxes in the corner, heaving one from the pile and depositing it on the bed. Feeling amused, Ed followed, going for box number two, and ripping the tape away from an upturned corner. The blonde dug through some books, socks and bedding sets, but came up short for sex-aids. Roy, in the other box, seemed equally as unsuccessful, because he had yet to even get the box open. Ed went for the last box, and found, at the bottom of the box under a hairdryer, a box of condoms and some baby oil. Not exactly made for play-time, but it would do in a pinch.

He held them up triumphantly to Roy, and the noticed he was still bent over the box digging for the treasures, having managed to finally open his, and thus hadn't noticed Ed's victory. A wicked smirk came to Ed's face, and he crept up behind the General, coating his fingers in oil, and with one hand on the other man's back, keeping him slightly bent over, ran a slick finger down the curve of his naked ass and pressed inside. Roy hissed in a pleasured noise and then ducked his head down over the box he was looking in, resting his head on a soft looking pile of clothes.

Ed fucked him slowly with his finger, and used his other hand to collect his glasses off his face, which were beginning to steam up with how hot and bothered he was. He placed them down on the bed next to the box, since in the darkness they weren't exactly helping his sight anyway, and felt, more than saw, Roy's body tightening and relaxing as he attempted to get used to the pleasure Ed was giving him. A moment later, he had turned Roy so the man was back to lying on his back, and Ed was ripping open a condom and rolling it down the General's rock hard cock.

Roy was huffing up at the ceiling when Ed finally got to business with his mouth, wrapping his lips around the other man's dick whilst he pushed two fingers back inside his lover. The General threw his arms up over his head and whined, and Ed smirked around his cock, sucking gently and swirling his tongue whilst he twisted his fingers in the man's ass and stretched him on them. Roy's hips jolted up, but Ed just rolled with them, and then crooked his fingers slightly and Roy gripped on to his headboard and shouted loudly. Ed gave a particularly firm suck and added another finger, which made his lover hiss in a way that made the blonde lick soothingly at the cock in his mouth, breathing steadily through his nose, and wait a moment before he began to move the fingers inside him again. He groped around for more of the baby oil and poured more on over his fingers and Roy's hissing became sighs and Ed hummed gently over the other man's cock and the sighs became shouts of pleasure.

"Oh, fuck, Ed." He huffed deliciously, eyes screwed tight and tossing his head. "W-want you."

And Ed wanted him too. He wanted to kiss every inch of his skin, and wanted to hear every gentle exhale of breath as he slept, and wanted to watch as he charmed and smiled his way to the top of the country. He wanted to be the only person alive to know how it felt to have Roy Mustang quaking with need and pleasure under him. Whilst the rest of the world regarded the Flame Alchemist as the top of his food chain, Ed alone wanted to know how he tasted.

"Gonna fuck you so good." He promised in a breathy whisper over the General's dick, removing his fingers and rolling another condom down on to his own cock.

He gave himself a couple of pumps, mainly because the image of Roy lying on his back in darkness his eyes were beginning to get used to, and panting so wonderfully, meant he needed to give some attention to his arousal, and then lined himself up and pushed inside with an exhale he hoped would control his need to bend Roy over every available surface and fuck him until he begged for him to stop. The hot, tight heat of Roy's ass was doing nothing to stop that desire, so he pushed in until he could feel his balls up against Roy's cheeks and stopped, surveying the man under him as he attempted to cool himself off. Roy had one hand still gripping at the headboard, and the other hand reaching out in the air between them, until it came to rest on Ed's stomach, over the nasty scar left there by Kimblee's falling building. Ed was transported back to three and a half years prior, when he had fucked Roy in that very bed (he knew the man wouldn't have upgraded in that time) and Roy had steadied himself on the wooden slats of the headboard as Ed rocked into him. He was reminded heavily of standing in the hallway with Roy on his knees, his fingers brushing over that same scar and asking how Ed could have survived.

All of a sudden he hated that he'd missed out on three years of this. He'd missed out on three years of seeing Roy in his most perfect state, needy, and wanting, and all Ed's. He's missed out on three years worth of conversations in bars and nights curled up together and whispering alchemical theories in the early hours. He'd spent three years raising his children, and of course he wouldn't have risked giving them up for the world, but he'd missed three years of having a partner that he could have at least been honest with, about how sometimes the realities of being a parent made him want to throw himself out a fifth story window. He'd missed three years of Roy.

He snapped his hips back and rocked them back forwards in a smooth movement that had Roy baring his throat and breathing in a quick breath, and set a fast pace that had them both panting in moments. Roy's nails scratched down his torso, and his head tossed from side to side in pleasure as he shouted and whined and panted out short 'hah-'s that went straight to Ed's cock, and Ed stared at his face through the darkness, with the crease in his brow and the sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, and realised with a painful pang that he hadn't just missed _out_ on three years of Roy, he'd genuinely just _missed_ Roy.

A second later Roy was giving a rather undignified squeak as Ed flipped him over on to his knees, pushing down on his back so that his ass was in the air, and pressed into him again from behind. If he couldn't see Roy's face, then he couldn't be getting any weird realisations from it. Roy moaned into his pillow, so it didn't appear like he minded, despite the fact that the commotion had sent the box still on the bed tumbling over and spilled out the things inside across the bed and on to the floor. Ed kept up his fast fucking, his hips now slapping against Roy's cheeks and sending out obscene noises into the bedroom alongside the now muffled moans of the General, so it wasn't as if Roy could catch his breath to complain anyway. He looked amazing like this too, with the long lines of his smooth, pale back arched beautifully and his fingers curled into tight fists around the duvet cover as he attempted to stave off the intense pleasure and what, if the ever-louder moans could be believed, was clearly an impending orgasm. Ed wondered if Roy could come just from being fucked – if he was as submissive in his genetic make-up as he was in the personality he only allowed to come out in the bedroom – but with pleasure beginning to pool in his own stomach, he didn't think now was the time to put the theory to the test. Instead he reached around the older man's hips and took a firm hold of his cock, still covered in latex, and gave it a few good strokes, which had Roy clenching and whining wonderfully as the orgasm that had been threatening ripped through him.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, Edward..." He cried as he came, and Ed bit down gently on his shoulder as an electric current ignited in him in turn, starting at the bottom of his stomach and pushing out through his cock, lasting only a couple of seconds but all but blinding him in the process.

"Ro-oy." He breathed, broken, against the older man's ear, and then, not a second later, he had accidentally collapsed on to the General's back, sending them both sprawling on to the duvet. There was a moments silence for their pride at the entirely uncool end to their fucking, and then Roy laughed through his nose, and that made Ed laugh in turn.

"Get off me." Roy commanded after they'd managed to regain some energy.

Both of them gingerly made their way to sit on the edges of the bed, avoiding the now scattered boxes and junk inside them, and rolled off and tied their condoms. Ed glanced back over his shoulder at the man and wondered whether he was supposed to leave now that they'd fucked, but Roy just sighed, laid back down on top of the duvet and flung out an arm, giving Ed a rather reproachful look. After a moment Ed realised that this was an invitation to stay and cuddle, and a genuine little smile graced his lips at how defensive Roy was being. He crawled back over and settled under the arm Roy had presented to him, and was pulled against the man's chest for more skin contact. The last time Ed had fucked him, Roy had been so sated he'd passed out almost immediately after coming – Ed hadn't exactly been expecting the same thing to happen again, but he did hope that Roy's coherency didn't mean he was losing his touch. As it was, he curled a little further into the warm skin and closed his eyes, thinking of three and half years prior when Roy had closed his eyes on this very bed, back in his flat in Central, and told Ed that he loved him.

Maybe it was about time Ed admitted that those feelings probably went both ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry it's late! I'm hoping my schedule is going to go back to normal come September!
> 
> Also - fun fact, don't use baby-oil with condoms, since it breaks them down - always use water-based lube with condoms, kids!


	7. Progressing a Relationship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy wondered how a nun could be so calm about a guy whipping his dick out

Freya had left that odd little wooden sign on the bathroom door, at the back of the kitchen, that read 'Bathe' with a picture of a bathtub on it, as if people needed to know what to do with a bath, and Roy found himself contemplating it momentarily as his flailing fingers accidentally knocked it from it's position and it fell to the floor with a clatter. He didn't have long to look at it though, because now his fingers had purchase on the door, they scraped down it – and a long moan fell from his lips at the feeling of Ed behind him, snapping his hips back and forwards, fucking into Roy, and knocking him further into the bathroom door.

He really hadn't meant for this to happen. When he'd woken that morning and found Edward curled up against his side, he'd attempted to extract himself without waking the younger man and had decided that the best way to thank the blonde for the mind-blowingly good sex of the night before was probably to supply him with coffee. He'd made it downstairs to the kitchen, had put on a pot, but before it reached temperature Edward had stumbled down the stairs, seen him preparing caffeine whilst still naked, and one thing had lead to another. The pot had long since beeped to let them know it was done, but by that point Ed had Roy bent over the sink unit and was balls deep inside him. A few minutes after that found them fucking up against the bathroom door – and Roy simply couldn't find it in himself to complain when Ed felt so good and thick inside him and – oh fuck -

"Ed, fuck… Ed, I'm gonna -" He huffed, breaking himself off as Ed thrust into him with a particularly harsh snap of his hips and made him choke on his own saliva.

"Yeah? Come on Roy," Ed encouraged, one hand snaking off of his hips and around to Roy's dick, where he began to jerk Roy roughly in time with his thrusts. Ed sounded like he wasn't going to be far behind, given the labour of his breaths and the erratic piston of his hips. "You're so gorgeous. You look so pretty when you come."

Roy couldn't help it – clearly he had some kind of praise-kink he hadn't known about, because not even two seconds later he was sobbing brokenly and his hips were stuttering forward into Ed's hand as he shot his load against the door. Ed's breath hitched as he followed Roy over the edge, and Roy moaned delightedly as he felt the distinct feeling of being filled up with the other man's seed. His own semen was dripping down the door, and he had a brief moment of guilt as it fell from it and on to the sign, and then he registered the man behind him pulling out and the slick feel of semen dribbling down his thighs.

Dread settled over him like a damp blanket, and he couldn't help but look at Freya's sign and wonder if he was about to be dealt some instant karma for disrespecting it.

"We didn't use a condom." He mumbled, turning gingerly towards his young lover, who had found some kitchen paper and was wiping off the last evidence of come from his prick.

Ed stilled at his words, staring down at the tissue in his hands, and slowly turned to Roy. The two of them held eye-contact for a moment, and then Ed bit his lip in such a way that had Roy wanting to kiss him and tell him that condoms didn't matter. Except they did. They'd been apart, sleeping with different people for almost four years, and Ed had only promised that he was 'pretty sure' he was clean before that. Roy himself couldn't vouch for his sexual-health. He'd never had any complaints, but a lot of sexually transmitted diseases were a-symptomatic until they had really messed up your insides.

"I'm so sorry." Ed was saying, hand over his mouth, looking mortified. Roy wondered if that was a clue that Edward knew he had something.

"I didn't say anything either." Roy shot back, curling an arm over his stomach and suddenly very aware of his nakedness. Then his level-headedness for planning operations caught up with him. He moved towards the coffee pot, took down two mugs from the cupboard, and filled them both. "Fuck, okay… this isn't the end of the world. We'll just have to go get checked out." He planned out loud as he passed one mug to Ed and added sugar and milk to his. "To be honest we should have done it ages ago. I can make an appointment with Sister Benedicta at her weekend clinic… it's in Thatcher's Court, I think. I can pull a favour and she'll probably see us both tomorrow on the down-low."

Edward sipped at his mug of coffee, even though it was likely boiling hot. He was leaning against the counter-top, casual and laid-back, despite also being as naked as the day he was born, and Roy cut himself off for a moment just to admire him.

"Tomorrow?" The blonde asked, and then he placed his mug down on the counter, pulled a hairband off his wrist, and threw his locks over one shoulder, plaiting them loosely. "I'd have to bring the kids along."

Roy's heart did an odd little flutter in his chest at that idea. Sister Benedicta would see them one after the other, most likely, and Ed bringing along his children would mean Roy being responsible for them for at least the time it took for Ed to have his appointment – or else taking two children into a clinic room where the nurse would be performing any number of tests of their father. He said as much to Edward, who's expression morphed into one of consternation.

"I mean… I hate to ask – but Sasha kind of remembers you, from before, and it would only be like… ten minutes." He mumbled, his expression giving away that he thought he was asking too much. Roy thought it was probably a little too early to tell him that he would walk the continent for Edward and his children, and so simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't mind." He confessed, as if he wasn't very much looking forward to seeing Sasha and Maesie again. Edward rewarded him with the most delighted smile, and then seemed to catch-up that they were both stark naked, and the grin turned a little predatory. Roy rose an eyebrow. "Insatiable." He mumbled, and then when Ed advanced on him - "No. Not now. I have work to get ready for. Go and find your clothes." He ordered.

Ed had wrapped him up in a strong embrace, and laughed delightedly against his cheek where he had been peppering kisses.

"Yes mum." He teased, before turning away and making his way out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. Roy watched him go feeling oddly flushed at his words, and after a moment he huffed, realising he would have to follow him up to retrieve his uniform – and apparently putting Ed, Roy and a bedroom together was a recipe for Roy being late for work.

* * *

"You totally got laid last night."

Roy sifted through the latest pile of orders for new uniforms, requests for annual leave and a litany of complaints about offices around HQ with a bored expression on his face, and wondered how Havoc could have made that assumption based on the persona he had been giving off all morning. He looked up to see the Captain was leaning casually against the door-frame to his private office, with a pen in his mouth in lieu of a cigarette, and was smirking at him. Roy rose one well practised eyebrow.

"Whatever gave you that impression?" He asked, only the barest hint of curiosity marring the otherwise uninterested tone.

Havoc moved further into the office and began ticking things off his fingers.

"You met up with Edward last night for a drink. You've been studiously getting on with your work without complaint, because you think that keeping your head low is going to make me and Riza forget you had that drink last night with Edward. You've been humming a tune under your breath for the last forty minutes which is way too upbeat to be signing off on new windows for F-Block. And last but not least; you have a love-bite on the left side of your neck."

Roy's hand instinctively shot up to cover the offending mark, inwardly cursing Edward for leaving anything on him, and then he lowered it again, feeling stupid, when he saw Havoc's triumphant expression.

"Yeah, you don't really." The chain-smoker replied, grinning. "All that other stuff though – that was all true."

Roy levelled him an unimpressed glare, but having been so clearly caught out, there was very little he could say in his defence.

"Fine." He mumbled. "Edward and I are seeing how things progress. It's not a crime."

"Never said it was." Havoc responded, flopping down on to one of Freya's chintzy sofas. He took the pen from his mouth and pointed it at Roy. "You're definitely giving me a pay-rise for not telling you about him living on your street. And I get to be best man at the wedding."

Roy threw a stapler at him, and he dodged and laughed. Roy rolled his eyes.

"I'll add ten percent to your Christmas bonus." He negotiated, unable to help the smile playing about his lips.

* * *

Sister Mary Benedicta was only thirty-seven, and had taken her vows to her god at the tender age of nineteen. She was the head military nurse at Eastern HQ and despite her slight stature and kind face, she was also known to judo-flip patients into stretchers if she felt they needed it and they were resisting. When Roy had been stationed at Eastern HQ as a teenager straight out of the academy, only eighteen, she had been just a trainee nurse, still preparing to take her vows – and she had held his nose until he had to gasp in a breath to make him swallow some banana-flavoured antibiotics he had been dead set against taking. She had only been fifteen at the time, and hadn't had her habit yet, which was how Roy knew that underneath the cloth she was a fiery red-head.

She'd also almost ran away from taking her vows at that time, and it had been Roy that gave her the courage to see them through. He hadn't forced her one way or another – simply sat down and listened to her, how he knew his 'sisters' from his aunt's brothel enjoyed being listened to – and she had never forgotten it. Which was why when he turned up on the doorstep to her office in HQ, and asked her if she had room to see him and a friend in her clinic the next day, test both of their sexual-healths and keep it quiet, she moved things about and agreed readily.

Which was how Roy found himself being driven by his neighbour, and now lover, over to Thatcher's Court the next day, with two cherub looking children in the back. Looks, it turned out, is where the comparison to cherubs stopped – because Sasha and Maesie, as Roy had had a glimpse of the night he had collected Freya from Ed's house, really could be quite a handful. As evidenced by Sasha continuously kicking the back of Roy's chair, and Maesie playing with a large stuffed _thing_ that screamed out 'I love warm hugs' at irregular intervals, despite the fact that Ed had shouted at her to put it away at least seven times.

They pulled up in a car-park outside a low ceilinged building with a sign outside proclaiming it to be a healthcare clinic, by appointment only. Ed unclipped his seatbelt, shimmied around in his seat and pinned his children with a look that would end in jail-time if looks could kill. He looked quite stunning, in a beige toggled coat and a bright red-scarf, with stone-wash jeans and heavy-duty boots because it kept threatening to snow. His hair looked freshly washed and soft, falling over his shoulders and down his back, and his glasses kept steaming up in the artificial heat of the car, which Roy couldn't help but find adorable.

"Maesie, put that damned snowman away." He huffed irritably. "I swear if you don't behave yourselves in there I'll..." and then he trailed off, because it was painfully obvious he either had no threats to begin with, or that he had run out of effective ones years ago.

Sasha had managed to unclip his own belt, and was leaning over to help Maesie with hers – who had made no move to put the snowman away – when Ed reached forwards and stopped him.

"I'll do that." He said.

Roy unclipped himself, made his way around the back of the car, and – feeling a little like he was overstepping his mark, but also knowing they were going to be late if he didn't attempt to help Ed control the little monkeys – he bodily fetched Sasha from his seat. He placed the boy on the ground, holding securely on to his hand, whilst Ed wrestled inside the car with Maesie and the snowman. Through the window, he could see the orange of his carrot-nose. Sasha pulled experimentally on his fingers, and when Roy looked down to him he quickly turned his gaze away, his ears heating up into an adorable red flush. Ed's fashion-sense from his teenage years, which had been nothing short of awful, seemed to have been inherited by his son – because Sasha was sporting an oversized pillar-box red hoodie and had spiked all of his hair up with wet-look gel into something resembling a hedgehog. Roy had never exactly been great with children (Hughes had always been great with kids, Roy had always left the fussing up to him), but he couldn't help but be enamoured by Edward's spawn – even when his chair was being repeatedly kicked and the boy's punk-rock look.

"You really should try giving your father a break, you know." He tried, and was rewarded by Sasha turning back to him with a glare so fierce it reminded Roy of Edward when he was just a tiny eleven year old.

"Screw you." The boy said, and Roy accidentally let go of his hand in surprise.

Luckily, Edward was there to catch the boy as he turned on his heel to bolt it away from Roy, and through the General's litany of apologies, Edward only shrugged – Maesie on one hip and Sasha being held with a death-grip around his wrist – as they made their way into the clinic. Roy found himself trailing behind feeling a little useless, and watched in dismay as Edward found them three seats, placed Maesie in his lap and Sasha in the seat between them, and sat down.

"I am sorry." Roy said again, continuing to replay the moment Sasha realised his hand was free and how he had turned to run out into the car park. It wasn't as if there was a lot of cars about – but who knew how fast the kid was; maybe he could have run off and they never wound have found him again. If it hadn't been for Edward being there, then that could have happened. Now, the blonde shot him a look that should have been annoyed, but wasn't.

"You shouldn't be the one apologising." He mumbled. "This kid is..." He trailed off again, looking like he wanted to say any number of words, before realising Sasha could hear him – and whilst neither of them were against needing to moan about the anxieties in your life every now again, it wouldn't be fair to do so in front of the child. Ed's foot began bouncing against the smooth tiles in the clinic waiting area instinctively, and Maesie giggled happily at being jostled about.

"I understand if..." Roy began. He'd been about to say he understood if Edward wanted to take his children in with him – but he didn't want to put the idea in the younger man's head, and he was desperate to get another chance to prove he was capable of looking after the children.

Slowly, Ed shook his head. His usually bronzed face was looking very pale. His arms wrapped more securely around his daughter and he buried his head in her hair – up in tufty pigtails. She, out of the two Elric children, was much more adorable – in a baby-pink parka coat, a knee-length denim skirt, cream knitted tights with pink butterflies up the side, and glittery silver ankle boots. Roy didn't imagine Ed had much to do with his daughter's wardrobe, since there was no way he could achieve such a cute look. Maesie probably chose it for herself.

"I haven't done this before." He mumbled against her spun-gold locks, so very similar to her father and brothers. Roy glanced towards the clinic door, where a sign told him the duty nurse was Sister Mary Benedicta, and that she was running a few minutes behind.

"You haven't had a check-up before?" He confirmed. Ed shook his head, his eyes closed and looking miserable.

"No, I've… I've been to the doctors before. I just haven't… I haven't left these two with anyone but Al or Winry since they were born." He explained. Roy felt a horrible feeling of guilt rushing through him at the words. Edward had trusted him enough the previous morning to ask him to look after his kids for ten minutes, and he had blown it the very next day by allowing his eldest to rush off into a car park. He took a deep breath. Before he could say anything, however, Ed was rambling – rapidly spiralling out of control. "I'm just saying – the reason for that is because… because they're a handful. I know they are. I've never been the best dad. I let them get away with too much. I don't tell them off when I know I should, because I missed out on when they were babies and I hate myself for it. I'm not capable of being dad and mum in one go, and Winry's excellent, but she _does_ only have them for one day a week – and.. and… and she bought them a puppy, and I can't compete with a puppy! I can barely keep up with who their friends are, or why we're not allowed to give them nuts in their lunch-box – and I'm always the one who has to say no to the play-dates because they're at the weekend when I've got tutorials and they're at their mum's anyway, or I'm working, or if I go I know I'll end up shouting at the kids in front of perfect bloody Sharon and her perfect bloody organic snacks – and that's not fair on the kids. But I don't really do other people at the best of times – I'm anti-social, I know that. I'm not a stay at home mum so I don't have time to make broccoli soldiers for elevensies, half the time the kids are still in their pyjamas trying to finish off their breakfast at eleven on a weekend! I can't do any of that good parenting stuff on my own, I can barely do adequate parenting stuff on my own, and I hate needles!"

Ah. Roy leant over Sasha and rested a hand on Ed's shaking shoulder. Whilst he knew that all of Edward's anxieties over being a good parent couldn't be entirely discounted, it was also obvious that the real reason for the breakdown was worrying over the tests he was about to receive. He remembered, from Ed's teenage years, that Alphonse had once told him the eldest Elric had an aversion to needles. Roy had thought it was hilarious at the time – Edward had gone through Auto-mail surgery, but couldn't face a tiny needle? - but now it seemed to be a real phobia.

"You don't have to do any of that stuff on your own." He heard himself saying, "We can all go in together, if you'd prefer."

Edward looked up at him, eyes a little wide in panic. Sasha and Maesie had stopped whatever they had been doing to entertain themselves (Roy had a vague impression Sasha had been picking his nose and Maesie humming under her breath) and had turned to look at their father, identical looks of worry on their faces. Whatever Edward said, and whatever Roy had observed, it was obvious that under the slightly hyperactive, quite outspoken personalities of the two smallest Elrics, they were sensitive, wonderful children. Edward looked at them both now, chest rising up and down as he drew in deeper breaths, and wrapped an arm around both of them, pulling them tight to him.

"Sorry guys." He apologised. "You know daddy loves you, right?"

Maesie nestled her head into her dad's shoulder and blew a raspberry – which Roy assumed meant yes. Sasha was pushing against the embrace, looking mortified at the public display of affection.

"Duh." He mumbled. Then; "Can we get ice-cream after this?"

Edward had a look on his face like they could go to Creta after this and get the ice-cream from the famous parlours there, so long as his children forgave him. It was the nearing December and ice-cream would probably give them all frost-bite, but Roy had a sudden image of Edward, in his red scarf and beige coat and the soft whippy whiteness of ice-cream on his nose, and had to agree with Sasha that it was a good choice.

"Tell you what," Roy began before Edward could promise them a holiday, "if you sit nicely with me whilst your dad goes in for his check-up. And if you sit even nicer with dad whilst I go get mine, then I'll treat everyone to ice-cream."

Sasha looked at him as if seeing him for the first time, and then instantly became calculating.

"And waffles?" He bargained.

Roy smirked.

"You'd have to be really, really good for waffles." He assessed. "I'm not sure you can do it."

Sasha looked suitably appalled at the idea that he couldn't do something, and sat up a little straighter in his seat.

"I can too." He mumbled, plastering an angelic smile on his face. Maesie, too, looked impressed with the idea of Dad's new friend offering them ice-cream, and stopped the raspberries she had been blowing instantly. Roy tried hard not to think that he was bribing them into good behaviour.

"Edward Elric?"

All four of them looked around to the petite nun coming out of the clinic room with a clipboard, and Ed's face drained of colour again. Roy placed a hand on his knee.

"It's your choice." He said. "Want us to come in?"

Edward looked around his little family and Roy, seemed to firm up his courage, and shook his head, standing from his seat and placing Maesie in Roy's lap. Roy fumbled her slightly, panicking, but she settled herself quite happily and quietly. Probably thinking of waffles. Roy tried to send Ed a reassuring smile, but the younger man hadn't seen it, already making his way towards the clinic as if he was on a funeral march. Roy watched as Sister Benedicta gave him a discrete once over, smirked, and then sent Roy an impressed look over Ed's shoulder, before waving the blonde into her office.

"How much longer do we have to sit nicely?" Sasha asked the moment his dad was out of sight.

* * *

Roy and Edward swapped over fifteen minutes later – Edward coming out pale and with a cotton swab taped to his inner-elbow. Sasha and Maesie had been playing clap games for the majority of that time, cycling through Sasha singing 'a sailor went to sea' and 'B-I-N-G-O' too many times to count. When they saw their father, however, they jumped down from their seats and ran to him, and Ed ended up having to wrestle them back into their seats.

"Remember there's waffles on the line." Roy shot back over his shoulder as he made his way into the clinic room, and stayed just long enough to see both children settling themselves down with expressions as if they were worried Roy wouldn't make good on his deal.

He smiled serenely to Sister Mary Benedicta, and sat down on the bench she had prepared when she waved him towards it.

"Full sexual-health check then, Mustang?" She asked, tone professional and the look on her face definitely not. "What a lovely little family you have."

Roy crossed his arms over his chest.

"They're not my kids."

"Clearly."

Sister Benedicta smiled at him, updating his file by hand whilst he waited. Roy hadn't seen another nurse for years – even living in Central he'd made regular trips back to the East, or got Sister Benedicta to come to him, every time he needed a check up. Big things, of course, like when he had lost his sight after the Promised Day, had been seen at Central Hospital – but overall he much preferred the personal treatment Sister Benedicta had been giving him ever since they had both been teenagers. Banana-flavoured antibiotics aside.

"Right." She said, standing up and brushing down the long black dress she habitually wore. "I'll take some blood samples, you'll need to fill a beaker with urine for me, and then we'll take a look down below, shall we?"

She had already placed a catheter and inserted the needle into his arm, drawing blood into a phial, before her words caught up with Roy.

"Down below?" He asked, voice a little shaky. The sister was concentrating on the blood and didn't look at him.

"Yep." She replied jovially. "I'll need a urethra swap for the tests, and then we should do a prostate exam, now that you're forty."

The dread Roy had felt the previous morning on realising he and Ed had been stupid enough not to use a condom felt pale in comparison to the dread that enveloped him on realising a woman – a _nun_ – he had known since she was fifteen was calmly and professionally telling him she would need to shove her finger in his arse because he was now old enough that his body might start shutting down on him. He'd thought himself quite clever, coming up so quickly with a solution to their problem the day before – now he simply felt horrified.

"I really don't think that's necessary." He heard himself say in a voice that was too high-pitched to be his own. The Sister finally looked at him, giving him a no-nonsense stare, and he reminded himself that he had once seen her drag a man by his ear into her office and got on with her examination with a smile, despite his desperate screaming. She held out a beaker.

"Up to the fill line, if you can." She told him with a honey-sweet smile, and Roy took the glass over to the adjoining en-suite feeling miserable. Ed wouldn't have had to consent to a prostate exam – he was still young and fit and healthy. Roy had grey hairs around his ears and his knees creaked if he took the stairs too quickly.

He took a little longer than necessary to finish his business, making sure to clean himself up properly afterwards, knowing what was about to happen, and placed the beaker down on the Sister's desk feeling incredibly nervous. She wrapped some cling-film around it and turned to him with a pleasant smile.

"Well done. Now, if you could just remove your trousers and underwear for me, and we'll get to business." She told him, putting on some plastic gloves.

Roy wondered how a nun could be so calm about a guy whipping his dick out as he undid his belt and let his trousers and boxers drop from his hips. The nurse gave him an encouraging smile as she took a swab to him and rolled his balls between her fingers, giving them a firm squeeze. He determinedly looked at the ceiling.

"This is so weird." He mumbled, and Sister Benedicta laughed.

"Please General," She sighed. "I've seen many genitals in my time as a nurse. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Well you haven't seen _my_ genitals before." Roy shot back, and then the nurse was finished and she motioned towards the couch.

"Bend over with your knees a little apart for me, there's a good boy." She told him, and Roy watched as she threw one set of gloves in the bin and found another. She collected a small tube of clear gel which was obviously lubricant, and made Roy wince. He imagined her lube would at least not have the far-reaching tingling sensation of the lube he had bought from the seedy sex shop on Blue Avenue in Central. He sighed, bending over the couch and spreading his knees apart – feeling ridiculous. He heard the squelch of lube being squeezed from it's tube, and tried not to tense up too much. "I'm going to begin now." The Sister said, and Roy felt the presence of her hand at his rear before he actually felt her there, and all of a sudden he was leaping away from her touch.

The couch on it's wheels moved out of the way as he pushed it away from him, spiralling towards her desk and making a large crash. He stumbled forwards with his trousers around his knees and flashes of memories had him feeling sick. He quickly pulled them back up, span around wildly, and backed into the wall, where he accidentally sent a dummy skeleton crashing to the floor. Sister Mary Benedicta gasped in a surprised breath at his sudden lash-out, and he buckled up his trousers, keeping his back to the wall, and stared at her in shock at his own actions. What followed was a wide-eyed staring contest across the room.

"Please don't." Roy finally said, shaking. "I think… I think you have enough to be getting on with." He added, the tone he used when he was pretending he knew what he was doing around HQ coming back to him.

The nurse took another moment to collect herself, and then nodded once.

"Yes. Okay." She said, taking off her gloves and throwing them in the bin. "Take a seat for a moment while I update your file."

Roy did as told, gently moving the prepared couch back into position and then avoiding it, sitting down on the visitors chair. The Sister sat down at her desk, labelled the beaker he'd put there earlier, and began scribbling into the folder that made up his medical records. As she did so, she spoke.

"I read about the incident that happened to you, a few years back. I examined you about six months after, if you remember." She said. She paused as if waiting for Roy to respond, but he simply nodded his head to show he'd heard and didn't say anything else. He wasn't sure where she was going with this, but he didn't much like it. "You seemed alright at the time, so I didn't mention anything – but I've got to wonder; did you ever have a talk with someone about it?"

Roy's entire body tensed.

"I spoke with someone about it." He replied stiffly.

"A professional?"

Roy looked away from her, at the skeleton that had fallen to the floor, and wondered whether he should go pick it up.

"No." He huffed. It wasn't the first time someone had told him to speak to a professional, and each time he shot them down. He didn't need to speak to a professional – he was dealing with it.

The Sister frowned at him, and then ripped off a piece of paper and scribbled down something on it.

"Think about getting in touch with this service. They specialise in cases like yours." She informed him. Roy glanced down at it, and then shoved it in his pocket, giving her a quick smile they both knew meant he had no intention of getting in touch with anyone. The nurse sighed. "Okay, you're free to go. I'll have the results of your tests in a couple of weeks. You'll have to call in to get them."

Roy nodded once more, standing and collecting himself. He picked up the skeleton on his way out, and met Edward and two perfectly straight-backed little children in the waiting area, and a small smile came to his face when he remembered he had promised them ice-cream and waffles.

"You were a long time." Edward assessed. Roy shrugged.

"Come on," He waved them all up off their seats. "Where's the nearest ice-cream parlour?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY for how long it's been! I was supposed to get WiFi on the 1st of September, and then we called on the 2nd and the internet provider was like 'oh, well we emailed you to tell you it would be the tenth now' which, you know... THAT'S NICE HONEY BUT WE DIDN'T HAVE INTERNET TO RECEIVE THE EMAIL!! So... yeah. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you all so much for your patience, and I hope my absence hasn't lost me too many readers... I'm hoping to update again on Saturday. And then I should be back to weekend updates. 
> 
> Thanks, OD


	8. Family Time, Interrupted.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think you're the first person to talk to Maesie like she's just a normal six year old kid, and not like she's got brain damage."

Roy got served with a notice from the bank explaining Freya wanted her share of the equity from the house on Monday morning, and the letter went on to say they had calculated how much the share was and Roy could either pay her a lump sum from savings and keep the house, or he could sell the house to release her share, and of course the bank would be available to help him with that. Nobody had that kind of money lying around, so on his way to work he stopped into the estate agents he had bought the house from, and advised them it needed to go back on the market and they could use all the same pictures they had taken before he moved in less a month before. He told himself that he would definitely end up in some kind of debt thanks to this, but hopefully he could have a proper sit down with his finances and figure out a way to curb the majority of it. Estate agent fees would cost him dearly, and then he would have to find somewhere else to live – probably a small flat or something – but in the meantime he could at least move into halls. It was a little unbecoming, a General living in a studio apartment in halls, sharing a bathroom down the hall with the lower ranks; but Roy would still prefer that to crippling debt, if he could help it.

Somehow, that awful news was lessened somewhat by the idea that at seven o'clock the next evening he would be leaving the office and driving to Edward Elric's address, where he would be teaching the family to communicate through sign. It should have been just another task he was slugging his way through, but he couldn't help that he was actually looking forward to it. They'd spent a wonderful afternoon together on Sunday, eating waffles and ice-cream in an otherwise deserted parlour, and despite the fact that the sugar had given Sasha and Maesie a high and Ed had ended up wrestling them back into the car with the threat of detaching his leg and beating them over the head with it, they had been laughing when Ed had finally dropped Roy back home – with a kiss that had made Sasha saw 'ew' rather loudly.

So, despite spending the entire day in the office sorting out drama and going through reports, he got home on the Monday night and spent another few hours going over his personal paperwork and figuring out how he was going to pay estate agents fees and where exactly he was planning to live. He was sighing into his third glass of whiskey when he realised he still wasn't entirely unpacked from the last move, and no part of him wanted to start house hunting again. Freya had dealt with most of it last time because Roy had hated the idea of it so much.

Which meant that when Tuesday evening rolled around and Roy was finally getting out of the officer's meeting with stiff shoulders and eyelids feeling a little droopy, he was glad more than anything that he didn't have to go straight home to more paperwork and numbers that were all beginning to bleed together. Instead he returned to the office where he swapped his military blue jacket for a soft, a little bit misshapen, mustard-yellow jumper, and ran a hand through his hair to get it to lie in a less tangled way. He subtly checked himself out in the reflection of the window-pane and agreed with himself that he looked presentable enough without looking like he was trying too hard. He hung up his uniform jacket and hung it on the door-frame to his personal office, feeling a little like he lived at HQ. That might end up being his only option if he couldn't figure out a way to save some serious money, and fast.

Riza was the only one left in the office, since Havoc and Fuery had spent all afternoon trying to sort out a gas-leakage in West-Wing that nobody wanted to take responsibility for, Fallman was overseeing the training of some new recruits, and Breda had been sent out to discover why Roy kept getting mail clearly meant for lower-ranking officers, and hadn't returned.

"Need me to drive you?" The sniper asked in a way that could have been construed as innocent if it wasn't coming from Riza Hawkeye.

Roy glanced across at her. If he agreed to it he could get her to drop him to his house, and then walk the few doors down to Ed's, but he'd still probably end up coming clean that he was meeting the ex-alchemist and then Riza would definitely push him for more details, and likely tease him. She'd probably also tell him to change his jumper, but Roy liked this jumper because it was comfortable and definitely not sexy, and he didn't want to give Ed the wrong idea about what tonight was about – especially not in front of two children under the age of eight – because the blonde had a libido that was insatiable. Slowly, he nodded, and the two of them made their way out of the office and to the car park, where he slid himself into the passenger seat of Riza's sleek black car. She drove for the first few minutes in silence, and then sighed.

"When my grandfather ascended to Fuhrership he was in a very similar position that you are now." She told him. "He worked overseeing the Eastern Headquarters, and was a single man. His wife had died seventeen years prior, and he'd never re-married, but he did date. People see the connections, and I believe they think you'd make a good Fuhrer when he goes."

Roy kept his eyes trained out on the streets passing by, hoping his excitement at the idea wasn't showing too much on his face. He was constantly trying to keep his hand close to his chest, but he knew Riza saw straight through him. He was glad that public perception of him was continuing down the right track, even with his long-term girlfriend moving away. Hawkeye clicked her tongue.

"I told you the other day that you finally had the choice to do what you wanted when it came to Edward, and I stand by that, I really am glad you too seem to be figuring yourselves out. But I have thought about it a little more and I do think you need to be careful how you proceed." She told him. "He has children, and when you become Fuhrer, and at this point there's a distinct possibility of that happening sooner rather than later, then they're going to get shoved into the limelight again. You can't half-ass this."

Roy's stomach was doing backflips, even though he'd already thought of everything Riza was telling him himself. He liked the idea of rekindling what he had with Edward, but despite some insane sex and a couple of nice afternoons together, it was still just potential, and he couldn't just casually date the man. At this point it was all or nothing, and if he chose to go with all then that meant in the near future that Edward and those two children would become the first family of Amestris. Edward probably wouldn't even want that. He nodded his head solemnly.

"I know." He replied, and was about to ask her if she could really imagine Edward as a politician's house-husband, when Hawkeye flashed him a considered look and snorted amusedly through his nose. Soon that turned into actual giggles and she shook her head ruefully out the windscreen whilst Roy tried not be insulted that she was clearly laughing at him.

"I'm sorry." She chuckled. "I just imagined you getting down on one knee to propose and Edward's reaction to that. He'd probably hit you."

Roy couldn't help it, he laughed too, mostly because he couldn't imagine himself to be the one to propose. He'd never done it before, and the idea of marriage itself had never really appealed to him. On the other hand, Ed had been married before, and maybe he was the kind of man who liked to have a piece of paper proclaiming the two of them off the market. Roy couldn't see why, clearly that hadn't meant that much to Edward when he was cheating on Winry in Xing. He continued to train his gaze out the window and rubbed his thumb and forefinger of his right hand over the ring finger on his left. Amestris would like it a lot more if he married someone, but he didn't really feel the need for a ring and a party to make a relationship long-term. Besides, marrying someone because Amestris would like it was no way to enter into that kind of commitment.

Riza pulled up outside Ed's house, and Roy didn't realise what she'd done until he was already thanking her for the lift, at which point he stopped talking and felt himself heating up under her imperiously cool gaze.

"How did you know?" He asked, even though he was fairly certain Riza had mind-reading skills. She rolled her eyes at him.

"You only ever wear that jumper when you want to look like you're not trying too hard." She assessed. "Which, by the way, means you're trying too hard."

Roy glared at her, and gently shoved at her shoulder playfully, before exiting the car.

"This isn't what you think it is." He told her, and she winked at him.

"That's a shame, because you could use a good buggering." She smirked, making Roy huff angrily. "Say Edward I said Hi."

Roy slammed the door firmly shut and turned away from her, listening to her loud laughter as she turned the engine back on and drove away. He walked up the garden path to Ed's front door, took a deep breath, and knocked. Almost instantly there was screaming from inside the house.

"Daddy, Daddy! Someone's at the door."

"I know."

"I'm going to answer it!"

"Sasha, no! I'll get -"

The door swung open to reveal a small, petite version of Edward Elric with short hair looking up at Roy, and the actual Edward two steps behind him with his hands outstretched as if he was about to grab Sasha by the collar and throw him back down the hallway. When Ed saw the door was open he straightened up and just patted Sasha on the head awkwardly.

"You should really let daddy answer the door, little man." He chuckled nervously, and Sasha just shot him a confused look which told Roy that if he wasn't there Ed's version of parenting would definitely involve more shouting, and then legged it back down the hall towards the living room. Roy gave a small little wave, and Ed took a deep breath and let it out in a half-laugh. "Alright, come in. Thanks for coming." He said, moving aside to let Roy in. As Roy stepped over the threshold Ed's hand automatically guided him through on the small of his back and Roy allowed himself a small smile, because that was a habit Ed had never fallen out of, and it reminded Roy of when Ed had spent a week as his bodyguard. "I've not really had a chance to clean up." The blonde mumbled as they moved further into the house.

Roy took a discrete look around, where piles of laundry and _Lego_ blocks and assorted toys were strewn about the floor, and books were lying on their fronts with their spines bent and Sasha and Maesie were sat in the living room throwing what looked like blue, glittery play-dough at each other.

"I said that needs to be in the kitchen." Edward huffed as he entered after Roy, and made a grab for the sparkly dough and ended up stepping on some and pressing it into the carpet. Roy wondered if it would be overstepping his mark if he dropped to his knees and clapped his hands to lift the dough from the shag, as Ed closed his eyes and started muttering under his breath what sounded suspiciously like counting to ten to waive his anger.

Sasha took one look at his dad, and then Roy behind him, collected the dough and took it through to the kitchen, so at least that was likely a win. He said as much to Ed who shook his head and sighed.

"He's probably just put it in the washing machine, and I'll forget later when I put a load on and there will be glitter everywhere." He explained. "I have no idea why we even have glitter in this house, I hate it. Anyway – Maesie, are you ready for your signing lesson?"

Roy really wasn't great with children, but he'd always felt a connection to Maesie, who had fallen asleep on him within an hour of knowing him when she was two. When he had met her in the park a few weeks prior she had seemed an entirely different child – scared and worried all the time – but the more Roy got to know her again, the more he realised that her quiet nature was in fact an allusion brought forth because she didn't have the ability to talk. In reality, she was shy – but fun loving, and when she saw Roy now she gave him a large smile and began babbling to him in a language only she could understand.

"Hi." He said, waving his hand through the air to make the sign. She stopped squeaking instantly, looked at him for a long moment and then repeated it, which was great, because at least she seemed receptive.

"I've already told her what we'll be learning today." Ed explained, which had been obvious from his asking the daughter about the lesson, but it occurred to Roy that Ed himself was nervous about the evening. The General nodded his head.

"Great." He replied, giving the thumbs up sign and, with a small smile that told Roy the blonde felt a little silly, Ed repeated it back. They probably did look like right dorks giving each other a thumbs up from three feet away.

"You need to say every word as you sign it." Roy told him, "absolutely no exceptions." He signed along as he said things, because his theory was always that complete immersion was the quickest way to learn a language. It was how Freya had taught him, and although he did remember Freya telling him something about key word signing with children he wasn't a trained sign-teacher like she was, so he could only teach how he knew to learn. Ed nodded along anyway, so he couldn't have been messing up too much.

"Yeah, okay." The blonde said. He let out a deep breath and the tenseness of his body firmed up Roy's theory that Ed was nervous. How long had it been since the great Fullmetal Alchemist was in a student's position?

Roy took a moment to look him over, and despite Edward still being more muscle than height, he was beginning to look distinctly like a father. There were creases around the corners of his eyes and the beginnings of frown lines on his forehead that weren't entirely easing out when he relaxed. His hair clearly hadn't been washed properly for awhile and was once more shoved out of sight in a haphazard bun. His nails were bitten down and he was still wearing what he'd clearly worn to work, which was a white shirt with a skinny tie and some grey slacks which had chalk marks smeared over the thighs. Somehow he still looked stunning.

"Right, so… I think I have some books at home which Freya left behind which have the basic signs in them, and the rest I'll just have to show you as and when it comes up. What kind of things did you need to know as a matter of course?" He asked, and when Ed motioned for him to he sat down on the sofa, he tried to give Maesie a small smile. She instantly stood up and settled back down next to him on the sofa, which Roy was inordinately grateful for.

"Feelings and needs, I think." Ed replied, sitting down on the edge of an armchair across from the sofa and making Roy look up at him, which felt a little odd. "I need her to be able to tell me when she's sick, and why she's sad or why she's happy, if she's hungry, ya know?"

Roy nodded considerately. He made a fist and put his little finger up in the air.

"The little finger is generally things that are bad." He explained, and then swapped to show the thumbs up sign again. "The thumb is generally things that are good."

"Well duh. Everyone knows thumbs up means good."

Roy turned to see Sasha in the doorway, giving him a look that clearly said he thought Roy was a dumb-ass, and then Edward's lookalike sauntered into the room and sat down in the armchair his dad was leaning against, glaring at Roy as if the dark haired man was imposing on a precious family moment. This was why Roy was not so great with kids, because he often had no idea what they were thinking or if they liked him. Sasha had spent all of Sunday afternoon glaring at him, even as he scoffed the waffles Roy had paid for, and then when Roy had been dropped home (after the 'disgusting kissing') he had asked if Roy could stay over for tea.

Roy hadn't taken him up on the offer mainly because he was still reeling from how quickly he was growing used to Edward and his family and had thought a tiny amount of time apart was probably for the best. And after his conversation with Riza in the car he was even more wary of flinging himself into the lives of three Elrics.

"Well, yes." He admitted to the boy.

The next hour was spent with all three Elrics slowly learning basic signs with Roy's tutelage, Edward and Sasha asking for specific signs as and when they thought of them, and Roy trying to explain that if Maesie came up with her own sign and they could figure out what that meant, then there was nothing wrong with that so long as everyone was on the same page. The little girl stayed eerily silent, watching them all with wide eyes, but making the signs with encouragement from her dad, who had a gentle way with the kids once they were focused on the activity. It was only when Maesie started shutting down and not signing any more that Edward stopped and looked between his children, and then the clock.

"Are you tired?" He asked, using the sign for tired he'd learnt from Roy. Maesie glanced between her dad and Roy and then nodded. Edward smiled at her, and then turned to Sasha, who was suddenly yawning too. It was half-eight, and they had spent the last hour taking in a lot of new information. "What do ya say, buddy, time to sleep?"

And for what was likely the first time in his life, going by Edward's surprised look, Sasha nodded his head and began collecting his bits and bobs to go up to bed. Edward watched him go up the stairs, clutching a tired looking pink pig in his arms, and then turned to encourage his daughter up, but she looked around the room and then pulled on Roy's sleeve to gain his attention. He looked down at her and she let go of his sleeve and put her hands in a prayer position before opening them up.

_Book_. Roy translated, and then realised she was pointing at him. She wanted him to read her a story? He faltered slightly, remembering when Freya had been there, the night she walked out on him, and how she had read the children a bed time story. He glanced at Ed, who was staring at his daughter with his mouth open in shock, and although Ed would probably find it mortifying, tears in his eyes.

"I – um..." He stumbled, but Ed glanced at him and swallowed around what was probably a hefty lump in his throat. He tennis-balled his gaze between Ed and Maesie, and then Ed cleared his throat.

"She asked you." He mumbled, but he didn't seem upset that she had chosen to sign to Roy rather than her own father. He just seemed as if he was desperately willing himself not to hope that maybe signing might be the way his daughter finally gained speech. "I hate to ask any more of you but..."

Roy quickly shook his head.

"Yeah, I can read a story." He told the little girl, signing along as he spoke. "Just go upstairs and get ready for bed and I'll be up in a minute."

The two adults watched her process his sentence and then shrug her shoulders and walk through the living room, up the stairs, and listened to her head into her bedroom before turning back to each other. Roy expected Ed to be a little sad that his daughter wanted some stranger to read her a story rather than her own dad, but what he hadn't expected was for the blonde man to take three deep breaths and then burst into loud aggressive tears.

"I can go." He heard himself saying, shocked by this display of emotion from the younger man, but Ed just shook his head, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes in what Roy assumed was an attempt to stop the waterworks. The blonde hiccuped slightly as he gasped in a few more breaths and tried to calm himself down, and he heard the other man swear a few times under his breath.

"Fuck, sorry. I just… I think you're the first person to talk to Maesie like she's just a normal six year old kid, and not like she's got brain damage." He confessed. "I just got really happy and then I got really sad and just… I don't know, this happens sometimes." He made a vague gesture at his face, which Roy figured probably meant Ed crying happened a lot, especially when Maesie was involved.

Roy, who was tense all over from watching the other man cry, calmed down a little as Ed himself calmed down, and couldn't help but send the blonde a fond smile. Ed couldn't see it anyway, he was too busy trying to squish his tears back in his tear-ducts.

"She's your daughter, after all. She's going to stun us all with her genius, just like you." He said, trying to find anything reassuring to say. "You can see she's got a lot to say, she's just waiting until you really, really need to hear it."

"Everyone else just assumes she's not bright or something." Edward sniffled, and then, quieter; "When do you think she'll know when I really need to hear it? Because I wont lie, I think I've been needing to hear it for at least three years now."

Roy gave a small, rueful smile and clapped the younger man on the shoulder, who looked up and offered a weak, wobbly smile in return that gave Roy the undeniable urge to kiss him. And because he wanted to, he did. Ed sniffled a little, and his face was still wet from tears when Roy touched it, but otherwise it was an enjoyable, pretty loving kiss.

Which instantly made him break it and turn quickly away, because Ed didn't yet need to know that Roy had already been considering marriage. He turned to the bookcase, stuffed full of children's stories next to alchemical theories, and selected one brightly coloured thin story to peruse with the children upstairs. He waved it in the air to show Ed his plans, and moved through the house and up the stairs, where there was a white door with a sign that proclaimed 'Sasha and Maesie' in colourful letters. He knocked on the door.

"Are you ready for a story?" He asked, and was met with a small giggle from Sasha, who then shouted for him to come inside. He pushed open the door to see both the children snuggled down on the bottom bunk and sat up in their pyjamas waiting for a story. He'd selected some rhyming nonsense about some farmyard animals racing each other, and waved it at them now. "This one okay?"

Sasha nodding, giggling some more, and patted the bed next to him. Feeling a little awkward, Roy climbed into the bed with them and squeezed his butt into the space they'd left for him. Maesie wiggled herself around and then put her tiny little hand on his thigh as he opened up the book so that she could see the pictures better. Sasha rested his head against Roy's arm and hummed contentedly, despite spending most of the night glaring at him again, and Roy found himself smiling down at them both as he flicked to the front page of the book and began to read.

"Once upon a time, on a sunny farmyard day, the animals decided it was time to play. Duck got the tractor, and hopped up top. Bunny said that she would hop. Pig and Sheep shared a trike, and the chickens found a motorbike..."

* * *

By the time Roy had finished the story and made his way back down the stairs Ed had cleared up the living room and gone through to the kitchen, where he boiled the kettle and had poured both he and Roy a cup of coffee that he could only hope would be better received than the last time Mustang had been in his kitchen. He'd put a load of washing in the machine and set it to wash overnight, and when Roy popped his head around the kitchen door, Ed was just practising some of the signs he thought would be most useful. He quickly put his hands down, feeling caught out for not just picking it up like he had done with everything else when he was a kid. Roy saw that Ed had prepared him a drink, and gave a grateful smile, walking forward and collecting the steaming mug from the blonde.

"They're asleep. Sasha fell asleep in Maesie's bed though." The General explained, and Ed breathed out a little sigh of relief.

"That happens a lot." He confessed. "I try and lift him up into his bunk, but he's getting heavier."

They sat down at the dining room table and Ed noticed he hadn't really cleared up from the kid's dinner earlier, and that there was spaghetti all over the wood, so he quickly picked the long starchy strands from the table and took them over to the bin, where he struggled getting the sticky pasta off his fingers for a moment, and returned to sit opposite Roy. He had a feeling he was forgetting something important to do with play dough, but he couldn't bring it to mind, so he sank into the chair opposite Mustang and allowed himself to breath in the warm scents of his coffee.

"I got the impression you were still bench pressing double your weight." Roy told him, and Ed glanced up and gave him a slightly teasing look. Really, Mustang made it far too easy to flirt with him. Not that Ed really minded.

"You been checking me out?" He asked, and delighted in the small flush it bought to his ex-CO's cheeks. The older man studiously kept his eyes trained on his mug and Ed couldn't help sending the top of his head a cheeky grin. What would it really matter if Roy had been checking him out? They had been naked and sweaty together only a couple of days prior – Ed would feel insulted if Roy _hadn't_ been checking him out.

"You do still find time to work out though." Roy assessed, ignoring the question, and Ed hummed in acknowledgement. Between dropping the kids at school and arriving at work he usually managed a quick fifteen minute run, and he'd installed a pull-up bar over the doorway to his study, which he used before bed if he managed to get all his marking done.

"Yeah." He finally agreed, sipping at his drink. Roy, across from him, was staring down into his own coffee with a rosy tint to his cheeks that was making Ed's heart beat double time in his chest. The blonde sighed.

"I'm sorry I lost my shit just now." He said, gulping down a wave of embarrassment at how quick he was to tears since beginning to live with his kids full-time.

He was plagued with memories of how often Mustang had mocked him when he was a teenager, and so was glad when Roy just shrugged his shoulders. The dark haired man lifted his coffee mug to his cheek and pressed it against his cheek to get some of the warmth through it, holding it with a loose hand wrapped around the body of the mug. Ed had a brief panic that this meant that the heating in his home wasn't warm enough for the Flame Alchemist, and then berated himself inwardly for caring so much.

"You wouldn't believe how often I've ugly-cried since -" Roy began, and then cut himself off with wide eyes and a choked off sound. The mug slipped from his hand and fell against the side of the table, where it instantly smashed, throwing shards of ceramic everywhere and depositing hot coffee into Mustang's lap. He stood up with a pained hiss, and then screwed up his face to ward off the worst of the pain and blew out a steadying breath through pursed lips. "S-sorry." He stuttered.

Ed had already leapt up and grabbed some kitchen paper from the worktop, which he carried back to Roy, fell to his knees and began instinctively dabbing at the man's lap. He didn't realise he'd done anything weird until the man above him gave an odd half-cough and spoke in a panicked way that gave his voice a specific squeal quality.

"I can do that!"

Ed looked up from his position on his knees and was met with the sight of Roy Mustang with a red flush covering his entire face and some of his neck, and then lowered his gaze again to the man's lap, covered in coffee, and the man's gloved hands, which were trying valiantly to bat Ed's dabbing away. On realising what he had done he feverishly backed away, standing and retreating at least three steps with coffee soaked kitchen paper in his hands. It seemed absolutely ridiculous to be embarrassed about this situation, given how they'd been intimate multiple times since Friday – but it didn't change the fact that somehow they both were.

"Fuck, sorry, I wasn't thinking." He rushed out, feeling a blush of his own creeping up over his ears and cheeks. "Just – fuck – are you alright?"

Roy didn't look alright, if Ed was being honest. He looked flushed and embarrassed, but also like he might be experiencing the beginning of a panic attack, and Ed couldn't discount how the dark haired man had been on the verge of confessing something when he seemed to shock himself so bad that it was that shock which had caused him to drop his mug. He looked at Ed with wide, worried eyes, and then just held out his hand for the kitchen paper, which Edward surrendered without complaint. He watched, biting his lip a little, as Roy dabbed at his crotch, and how the man kept his attention intensely focused on the activity of clearing up the spill.

"I'm fine." He ground out after a moment, "It's not even hot."

Which was such a Flame Alchemist masculine bravado thing to say that Edward snorted in amusement.

"Sure, Mr Asbestos." He replied, an amused smile about his features as he took the now sodden kitchen-paper from Roy and went to find a dustpan and brush for the tiny shards of ceramic as Mustang bent down to pick up the larger bits.

He brushed away the worst of the tiny shards, bending down to do so, and looked up to say something witty to Mustang, who was concentrating hard on collecting the large pieces of mug without cutting himself, when he noticed that once more the man's ignition gloves were firmly in place on his hands. Ed had vaguely thought about it earlier in the evening, rationalising that it was cold outside, and that Mustang had come straight from work – but the more he thought about it Ed couldn't remember Roy wearing his gloves around the office when Ed had been stationed under him, or even a few years ago when Ed had worked as his bodyguard.

He thought back over the times he'd met with Roy since the man had moved to East City, and couldn't place a time when he'd seen the man without his gloves. He had his safety blanket theory, but it seemed excessive to wear them twenty-four seven. Even Sasha didn't rely on Piggy that much.

"I could have fixed this… come to think of it."

Ed looked up to see Roy cradling the larger pieces of ceramic in his hands, a frown on his face as if puzzling something out, and then the dark-haired man glanced across at Ed and Ed realised they were about three inches away from each other, so he quickly stood up – thinking that perhaps Roy might like some distance after his panic.

"What?" He asked.

"The mug." Roy replied. "I could have fixed it, with alchemy. We didn't need to go to the trouble of sweeping all the shards away because I could have just clapped and it would have been fixed."

Ed was by the bin, ready to throw the shards away, when he looked back over to Roy, who was still frowning as if wondering why it had taken him so long to think about using his alchemy. He wasn't overly fussed about the mug being fixed – it was a cheap thing that he'd picked up from the shop down the road when he'd first moved in and he realised he didn't have any mugs. He'd since acquired about fifty of them and was always looking for an excuse to throw one away. As such, he dumped the shards into the bin.

"You don't live and breath alchemy, you never have done." He assessed, turning to Roy and taking the shards from him. "I mean honestly, you've managed to create an entire career on a simple equation of three elements and a compound that they teach in entry level science."

Roy looked a little affronted by the assessment, but it wasn't as if he could deny it.

"You _like_ alchemy." Ed continued on before the man could start bitching about how there was a lot more to flame alchemy than Ed gave him credit for. "But it's never been your go to answer. You've always known the truth, even before you were forced into opening the gate – that alchemy is actually _never_ an answer."

Ed told himself to remember what he'd just said, so that he could use it in his next lecture. They were slipping dangerously into philosophy here, but Roy didn't seem to mind. He passed by Ed and deposited his own shards into the bin.

"It's a science, after all." He replied as he did so. "Science is always a question. What would happen if I did this. Why does that react that way. Which response is more likely given certain stimulants." He added, as if affirming he did understand science beyond combustion. Ed grinned at him.

"So we're in agreement." He confirmed, and Roy nodded. Alchemy was a science. Science was always concerned with asking questions, and any answers given were simply a product of applied science. "So why are you wearing your gloves?"

Roy, who had been moving back towards Ed, stilled his movements and simply stared at the blonde across the kitchen, eyes widened. Ed got the distinct impression he was the first one to mention Roy's behaviour to him, and wondered just how long the man had been habitually wearing the ignition cloth. The General's nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, and he couldn't even come up with a passable lie to cover the behaviour. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out and he quickly shut it again.

Ed had a horrible suspicion he knew why, and for how long Roy had been clutching to the security of his alchemical weapon. Ming-Yue had once told him she carried a knife on her persons at all times, and this felt like an eerily similar situation.

"You were going to tell me something, just then." He tried, tentatively. "Before the mug broke. You were going to tell me something and it shocked you… it shocked you that you were going to speak about it. Have you… have you never spoken about it?"

Ed kind of hated himself that he couldn't find the courage to put his own suspicions into words. He knew what he wanted to say, that Roy needed to talk to someone about what had happened to him three and a half years ago, that Roy needed genuine therapy if he thought a decent coping mechanism was keeping his most powerful weapon literally at his fingertips. He wanted to tell Roy that saying the name 'Guttering' wasn't going to make the bastard magically appear. Yet, when faced with it, he himself was beating around the bush.

"I don't need to talk about it." Roy protested weakly, the metaphysical 'it' hanging in the air between them, both of them acting as if giving 'it' a name would bring 'it' to life, right there in Ed's kitchen.

"It's been years." Ed replied, trying to get Roy to see reason. No one should spend years after a traumatic event ignoring it ever happened.

"Precisely." Roy affirmed, as if the passing of time was _more_ of a reason to ignore the situation. "I'm over it."

Clearly he wasn't over it. No part of Roy's behaviour hinted at even working _towards_ being over it. The fact that he was wearing his gloves constantly, that he couldn't even verbalise what 'it' was, and that with every moment of their discussion he drew further and further into himself, was proof enough of that. Ed sighed. He wasn't sure if it was his place to do this, but it appeared someone had to.

"You're over what, Roy?"

The question had the General in front of him, so calm and collected the majority of the time, clenching his gloved hands into fists at his sides, and physically backing away a little. If Ed had been closer he would have seen the sweat breaking out on Roy's forehead, and would have heard his breaths coming out in shorter, panicked pants. As it was, he did see the look of utter devastation on his face as Roy realised he'd been backed into a figurative corner.

Roy turned on his heel and was out through the door to the hallway in a heartbeat, and Ed rushed after him to stop the man running away, because that wasn't going to do anyone any good.

"Wait!" He gushed, catching the other man's sleeve, and Roy whirled around as if he was going to hit him, but instead only grabbed Ed's collar and buried his head in the shorter man's shoulder, shaking visibly.

"Don't _fucking_ tell me what to do." He hissed, but the words lost their desired aggressive effect since they were spoken in such a broken way, whispered against Ed's shirt. The blonde circled his arms around the other man's back and rubbed a soothing circle against it. Roy let out a shaky breath against his shoulder.

Ed's mind was back-flipping as he tried desperately to think of something to say – something reassuring to say – but the more he tennis-balled around trying to think of something, the more blank his mind became. Then the phone rang.

Both men jumped at the shrill sound of the phone, hanging on the wall in the hallway about a foot from Roy's ear, and they quickly let go of each other, staring at the offending phone as if there was the distinct possibility that a murderer was on the other end of the line. Then Roy laughed, and Ed found himself laughing too, because at least the horrible shrill ringing had broken the thick tension they'd been wading through in the kitchen. As such, when Ed picked up the phone he said his usual greeting with a slight chuckle.

"Elric household." He said, and there was a small shuffling on the other side.

"E-Edward, hi. Is the – the General there?"

Ed recognised the voice immediately as Hawkeye's, although it seemed more subdued and worried than usual, and he realised that her calling him and asking for Roy meant that she knew that the dark-haired man would likely be with him. He couldn't help but wonder, perhaps with a little bit of amusement and hope, whether Roy had been bragging to his best friend about where he would be spending the evening.

"Yeah, he is. Hold on." Ed said into the receiver, and then held out the handset to Roy, who rose an elegant eyebrow at it and didn't immediately move to take it. "It's for you. It's Hawkeye."

Roy sighed in a way that suggested his work managing the Eastern command centre was never done, and took the phone from Ed with a frown.

"Mustang speaking." He said into the phone, and then quieted and listened to whatever Hawkeye had to say. Ed amused himself by daydreaming about the various issues Roy might have to face in managing HQ and what he would be being called in for, but then Roy grew very serious and said: "What? Fuck, Riza, I'm sorry..."

He grew quiet again, but now Ed was more focused on his conversation, especially since Roy glanced his way and then turned his back to him as if he was trying to cover up what they were talking about. Ed could feel trepidation rising in his chest as he listened to half the conversation.

"It's too soon. I've only just got here. I thought – years. I wasn't expecting… yes, you're right, of course… I'll come in right away. Ring Havoc and get him there… Don't tell anyone outside the team, we need to press our advantage… Right, and Riza, I am sorry."

He hung up the phone and turned back to Ed with a look in his eyes that was haunted, and yet determined.

"What is it? What's happened?" Ed asked, feeling like a nagging wife.

Roy hand a hand through his fine black hair and pushed it back off his face, making him look windswept and incredibly attractive. He moved through the hall to the front door and stopped in the moonlight shining through the glass panels on the door, turning back to Ed with an unreadable expression. Before Ed knew what had happened Roy had snaked an arm around his waist and dragged him to him, and then they kissing.

Ed's eyes slipped closed and he allowed himself to enjoy the sensations of the other man asserting a bit of dominance, pressing his tongue into Ed's mouth and dragging him impossibly closer until their bodies were entirely flush, and then as quickly as it had started it was over, and Roy was speaking in a whisper against Ed's lips, making the younger man shiver in pleasure.

"I have to go into the office." He mumbled, and Ed had a brief, impressively detailed daydream in which he spent the rest of his life kissing Roy in the doorway before he left for a day at work. Roy, however, looked far too shocked for that daydream to be reality. "I just… I wanted to do that, before everything kicks off."

Ed frowned.

"What's happened?" He asked again, as Roy let go of him and turned once more to the door. He looked so powerful all of sudden, wrapped up in determination. He was still the same Mustang, still slight about the shoulders and more pretty than handsome, but in that moment, bathed in moonlight as he turned to look at Ed and give him his answer, he looked nothing short of regal.

"The Fuhrer is dead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just need to let everyone know that we received the awful news two days ago that my father-in-law, who has had terminal cancer for the last two years, had been given a matter of weeks. He lives in Cornwall, a few counties over from us, so there will be a time very soon in which we will make our way down there, and my presence here (and my writing in general) might take a hit. 
> 
> Sorry for even more disruption to this story - but I am sure you can all understand that my family comes first. 
> 
> Thanks, 
> 
> OD


	9. The Media-Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you don't win this election by just being you, then I don't think you'd have really won it at all."

News of the Fuhrer's demise reached the radio stations at about six o'clock in the morning, which Ed only knew because he had been up all night listening to the wireless on the kitchen counter, nursing way too many cups of coffee, thinking about it. The Fuhrer was dead. Roy had been given a few hours head-start to get his affairs together and start campaigning before any other candidates knew, thanks to his connections with the Fuhrer's granddaughter. Roy had only been promoted to a full-fledged General in charge of a command centre a few weeks prior, but now the Fuhrer was gone that was entirely a moot point. It wasn't a promotion he was going for now, but a political move. He sat up straight in his chair as the reporter on the radio, which had been babbling on about local bake-sales, adopted a tone of seriousness and said 'this just in', before proceeding to report on Grumman's death, including vague details of how it had happened – slipped away peacefully in his sleep, which wasn't the worst way to go.

"General Hague has been given the powers of the Fuhrer for the next seventy-two hours, to guide us through this state of chaos in the aftermath of his death, and to give the authorities the correct amount of time to name the new Fuhrer. More updates will come through this channel as they become available." The radio announced gravely.

Ed was aware of General Hague in the same way someone is aware of a buzzing wasp in the vicinity. Impossible to ignore but that doesn't mean you like it. On the other hand, he wasn't the kind of guy to declare them into a state of emergency and was mostly controlled by his overbearing wife, who didn't like him working long hours, so he wouldn't want the Fuhrership for himself. Ed tapped his finger against the rim of his mug, stood up, walked into the hall, and phoned Alphonse.

He was three rings in when he realised it was only seven minutes past six, but by the time his brain had formulated the idea that it wasn't socially acceptable to ring people at that time in the morning, Al had picked up.

"Yallo?" He grumbled, groggily, and Ed knew in that moment that he'd woken him. Of course he'd woken him. He was still, even a decade on, excited that Alphonse could be woken, because it meant his little brother had been able to sleep. He took a deep breath before talking.

"Have you heard the news?" He asked, which was ridiculous, because he'd just deduced that Alphonse had been asleep until the moment Ed had phoned his landline.

"… No." Al replied, giving a big yawn. He didn't even sound surprised that Ed would call him at this time, which probably said far too much about the relationship they shared. Co-dependent, they'd been called – various times – in their youth. Ed couldn't even deny it.

"Grumman's dead, Al." Ed informed him. "They said it on the radio just now, Roy's known since last night." He added sheepishly.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, which Edward allowed because the Fuhrer dying was big news, especially when this time neither of them had anything to do with it, and then Al made a noise in the back of his throat like he couldn't believe Ed had woken him up for something as trivial as the head of state passing.

"How do you know that Mustang knew since last night?" He asked, lowly. "He regularly keep you up to date on these things?"

He said it in a kind of way that made Ed think Alphonse was needling him for more information, and he bit his lip and squirmed away from telling his brother the truth of the sexual encounters he had shared with his ex-CO since Saturday. In reality, Roy had only been in his house the evening before in the professional capacity of teaching Ed and his children to sign, but Ed would be remiss if he didn't mention the underlying need he had to monopolise Roy's time whenever he was around the older man. The details of Ed's relationship with Roy had come to Alphonse late, and his little brother would never forgive him if once more he was kept in the dark about Ed and Mustang's burgeoning tryst. The father of two closed his eyes in exasperation instead of owning up to the time he had spent in the company of his old boss – because of course his adorable but meddling little brother would entirely gloss over the deceased Fuhrer in favour of nagging Ed about his love-life.

"He was here when he heard." He confessed, and when Al made a sound that was half way between an excited squeal and a disapproving growl, which rather summed up Alphonse's feelings on his brother and Mustang, Ed added "for our first sign lesson."

The line went quiet again, and then Al said;

"Hold on, Mei's just woken up for a wee and put the radio on. Grumman's really gone?"

" _Yes_." Edward repeated, a little incensed. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

Al made a low humming sound in his throat. Ed could imagine him leaning against the wall as he sorted through the information.

"So Mustang is..." He started, before trailing off. Ed knew what he had been about to say, however. That Mustang had been thrust into the political game of who gets to be the next Fuhrer, and the outcome would see him either head of state, or, given that the system was entirely broken and Fuhrer's tended to rule until they died or voluntarily retired, out of the running.

"Yeah. I guess so." Ed pulled the cord of the phone out from it's rung and sat down on the floor with the phone still to his ear, drawing his knees up and hugging them with one arm, he leant against the hallway wall and wondered if he should tell Alphonse about the blossoming relationship he had been enjoying with Roy.

It had felt so good, for a few blissful days, to be in the beginnings of a relationship – where everything made him giggly and the sex was mind-blowing – but it seemed it had to be all or nothing where Ed and Roy were concerned. Ed had never told Roy that he'd been infatuated with him when he was a teenager, because he was a teenager, and he knew damned well that the timing wasn't right due to their age. Instead he'd tried to love Winry and fucked up his best friend's life. He'd once more put off a potential relationship with Roy almost four years ago, so Ed could move back East and look after his kids, and Roy could focus on his career. Then, the very moment Ed was beginning to believe that they'd finally found the right time, something as world-changing as the Fuhrer's death got in the way. Mustang would, of course, put in his bid for Fuhrership, as had been his dream for as long as Ed could remember, and Ed could hardly ask him to put that aside because they were finally both in the same city and legally allowed to carry-on with each other.

He had the impression Roy was 'next in line' to take over the mantle of Fuhrership, but things were never as cut and dry as that. A huge political battle would ensue, and it would all come down to votes. Three and a half years ago one date had sparked speculation over every aspect of their lives, which was the last thing Roy needed during a campaign for Fuhrership. The timing was, once again, not right. Roy had just broken up with his girlfriend, the Fuhrer was dead, and Ed still had his kids to think about – he'd hate it if they got dragged into the media-storm, and their little lives were splashed about the papers. It might be worth it if there was a guarantee that Ed and Roy would stay together, but what happened if in a few months Roy decided that Ed and his family weren't worth the hassle?

"So what happens if he gets Fuhrership?" Alphonse asked, breaking Ed from his internal worrying. Al's voice was losing the sleepy quality as he woke up more and realised the seriousness of a situation.

Ed had been thinking of little else but that question since Mustang had walked out of his house the previous evening, and now he leant his head back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling as he thought of the right information to relay to his brother. Al wasn't asking what would happen between Roy and Ed, because as far as Alphonse was concerned, there was no Roy and Ed, but he was curious enough to wonder at how their old CO would be affected by the change – especially after everything Ed had heard about Ishval from Riza, which had of course already been explained in detail to his little brother.

"I'll owe him money." He finally settled on, and when Al gave a small laugh he couldn't help but smile himself. "Other than that… I don't really know. He'll move back to Central, I guess. Put into action all the plans he has to make this country better. He can campaign from here, but in a couple of weeks he'll move into that big-ass presidential palace."

Ed sighed. Alphonse hummed thoughtfully, but neither of them said anything. Edward wanted to confess how much he was freaking out about where this all left him, but it sounded a bit self-centred, and it was always obvious when he was being selfish when he was talking to Alphonse – the most selfless person he knew.

"Look, I gotta get the kid's lunches ready for school." He excused, feeling saddened and having to remind himself that just because Grumman had popped his clogs it didn't automatically mean he and Roy couldn't continue seeing each other. Alphonse let him go with minimal protest. "I'll uh, see you Friday yeah?"

With a date in mind for the next time he would see his brother, Ed felt slightly happier as he hung up his phone and made his way back to the kitchen to get started on those lunches for his kids. He still had over an hour before they would get up and ready for school, but he could use the time to plan out a few lectures or get on with some marking. He told himself resolutely to stop worrying about Roy, and how the latest developments might affect their relationship.

* * *

By Eleven AM Roy wanted to come up with a passable disguise (something with a leather jacket and cool sunglasses) change his name to Cecil Le Foy and move to Aerugo, where he would spend the rest of his days in a hand-built log cabin, with a pack of wild wolves, foraging for food in the vast forest, and not caring one iota about Amestrian politics. Breda, on the other hand, was having none of that, as he quizzed Roy further on state laws and governmental traditions, and coached him on how to deliver concrete speeches and impressive, enticing policies. Havoc and Fuery were both bent over a single piece of paper attempting to write a doctrine that would endear Roy to the people whilst simultaneously setting out a rigid plan of action should he achieve high-office. Hawkeye was talking to the journalists outside, and every now and again Roy could hear snippets of their conversation, in which Hawkeye was doing her best to big him up without promising anything he didn't want to give. Fallman had spent the last hour or two researching his opponents, flipping through public records of every man who had put his name into the ring.

It wasn't that he didn't have a good, supportive team, but he couldn't help but daydream about the end of the day. In his fantasies he was returning back to the house with thirty-two on the door, where Edward was cooking dinner for himself and the kids, and he would just fall into the younger man's strong arms and be looked after for a little while. Of course, every time he caught himself daydreaming anything of the sort he doubled his efforts at whatever questions Breda was firing at him, and told himself firmly that the Fuhrer of Amestris did not need to be _cuddled_.

"Outline your views on the state education system." Breda ordered him.

Roy ran a hand through his hair and leant back in his chair. It was quiet for a moment as he thought through the best way to word his response, and in that short time he could hear Havoc and Fuery muttering under their breaths about Ishval, and the usual pool of dread that was ever-present at the bottom of his stomach whenever Ishval was mentioned jumped a little, making him feel sick. Then the door swung open and Roy looked up, happy for the distraction, only to see Hawkeye walking in with a pinched look on her face and a few pieces of paper in her hands. She placed it down on his desk in front of him with a frown, and he glanced down to see a hastily written headline in scrawled handwriting, and underneath the painfully neat type of a typewriter.

"Mister MacDurham from the Amestrian Times Printing Press has kindly passed on the first draft of an article they plan to print as page five in their evening copy tonight. He assures me it will be alongside articles regarding the other two Fuhrer candidates as well, and he has already managed to get it pushed back from page two – but he thought, as an ally to your cause, that we should have prior warning." She explained, as Roy's eyes roamed again and again over the headline and he closed his eyes in despair. "He also explained how his bosses have found a few old photos of the two of you that they plan to use."

Roy clenched his fists as his side and began to read the article fully.

_CANDIDATE MUSTANG –_ _THE LOW-DOWN_

_Roy Mustang has widely been seen across Amestris, especially in the last couple of years, as the natural successor to the late Fuhrer Grumman. He, like Grumman was before his ascension, is the overseer of Eastern Command, and it can not be denied that in his illustrious career in the military he has proven himself again and again to be the best man for the job. However, despite his decorated past as a State Alchemist, and one of the key figures who saved Amestris during the Promised Day affair, Roy Mustang may not be as squeaky clean as his PR team would have you believe._

_Rumours have always flown freely regarding Mustang and his personal life – it was thought for some time, and never disproved, that he and his youngest subordinate, Edward Elric (of Fullmetal Alchemist fame) were sexually active during the boys teenage years. These rumours have never been proven, but they have never been disproven either! What makes them even more believable is that almost four years ago it came to light that Mustang was interested in other men, and that he was, in fact, dating Elric. Both denied any relationship beginning before Elric was of legal age, but it certainly looks suspicious._

_In an attempt to ease public curiosity over his personal relationships, Mustang then took up with Miss Freya Collins from Central. The two enjoyed a three year long relationship, and she moved out East with him when he took up the position of Head of Eastern Command three weeks ago. However, the move was ill-fated for their relationship, and Miss Collins quickly returned to Central, explaining to reporters that she had ended her_ _love-affair_ _with Mustang. The reason for this? Collins wouldn't say – but this reporter has been made aware that Mustang's former beau was instrumental in the break down of the relationship._

_Witnesses report seeing Mustang and Elric enjoying dates together, in bars, and, on Saturday afternoon, in an ice-cream parlour with Elric's two children from a previous marriage. Does this point to infidelity whilst Mustang was dating Miss Collins? It seems Elric is, as he always has been, Mustang's greatest weakness. And speaking of weaknesses, witnesses in the East City area have also given us more insight into the effect Mustang's relationship with Elric might have on him as a person, and his run for Fuhrership, as they report seeing he and Elric in a sexual-health clinic on Saturday morning._

_Has Elric given Mustang a sexually transmitted disease? If so, how long can Mustang remain unaffected? And should we vote for someone who is in ill-health?_

_If you have any more information regarding sightings of Mustang and Elric together, get in touch!_

Roy buried his head in his hands.

"Are you ill, sir?" Riza asked, voice unnaturally soft. The whole office appeared to have stilled, and everyone was clearly listening in. Roy shrugged his shoulders.

"I haven't got the results back yet." He murmured. He hated this – hated how his relationship was being broadcast to the whole of Amestris, and how if Ed had been a woman none of this would have mattered, and no one would have questioned his sexual health.

Riza sat down on the edge of the desk.

"But you and Ed… you are -"

"Yeah, we are." He admitted. There was no point lying now, besides, she would have found out soon enough anyway. He sighed. "I need to let him know this is going to be printed." He said. Riza frowned.

"You need to do some damage control."

And the thing was, Roy loved Riza. Loved her like he loved a sister, and loved her so much for her constant steady advice and clear-headedness, no matter what the situation. But at that moment, in that context, he really, really disliked her. It wasn't fair, and what he really disliked was the press, but at that moment he channelled his anger towards Riza. He remembered three and half years earlier, sitting in his office after the sorry excuse for a trial which had been broadcast to the whole of Amestris and outed him as Bisexual – and listening to Riza telling him he needed to do some damage control. He remembered the next day, waking up after the best sex of his life and stumbling into his kitchen to find Edward with a newspaper and looking for an excuse to leave – and Roy telling him he needed to do some damage control. He remembered watching Ed walk out of his life, and then remembered a few weeks ago, watching the boy walk back in. The thing was – things were different, and they both knew it. They had missed out on three and a half years of potential, and all of that missing could be chalked up to damage control.

Yet why the hell did his relationship have to be classed as damage to begin with?

He sighed and snatched the paper to himself, and then turned to Breda and rattled off a perfect answer to the question of the education system, which had the redhead appraising him silently. He stood from his desk, the sheaves of paper still in his hand, and walked around the back of Riza, pausing at the door on the way out of the office.

"You're right." He told her. "I need to do some damage control. But not for the public. It's high time they realised that my personal life is personal. I'm going to go home and let Ed know this is going to be printed, and I'm going to get in touch with one of Aunt Chris' friends from the East City Gazette, and we're going to set this whole nonsense about when Ed and I started dating right – once and for all."

With that, he stomped from the room, leaving his office to sort out the doctrines, and the speeches, and the rest of the public appearances. With any luck, he could kill two birds with one stone.

* * *

Ed had been fuming when Roy had delivered the article to him – Roy didn't have to be a psychic to tell, because Ed had seemed happy enough when Roy had knocked on his door, but the more he read through the damning words the more his face turned sour. After finishing the article he stood from his seat in the living room, gave a very large sigh, and removed himself to the kitchen, where he began making coffee with shaking hands that were banging the kettle and mugs around in a way that reminded Roy of when the boy had been a teenager and anger-control had been an issue.

Roy stood in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the frame, and thanking his lucky stars that the kids were at school and not witness to whatever fight they were about to have.

"Is that how you think of me?" Ed finally asked, having poured boiling water into two mugs and missed the second quite spectacularly. Roy winced a little, but didn't immediately reply, since he hadn't memorised the article and he wasn't entirely sure what his young lover was referring to. Finally, Ed put his hands against the table-top to try to quell their shaking and closed his eyes. "Am I just a weakness to you?"

Roy frowned from his spot in the doorway. He couldn't deny that in the past he had viewed his affection for Edward as a weakness. When the boy had been a teenager under his command Roy had spent countless nights worrying about what would happen if his enemies caught on to how much Roy couldn't help but like the boy – to the point where he had deliberately kept the Elric brothers at arms length. Three and a half years ago he had chosen his career over Ed, and treated him like a weakness. But in reality Ed was, and always had been, his greatest strength. In front of him, drinking coffee like it was going out of fashion, brilliant mind circulating through each and every possibility, strong as an ox on his worst days, was Edward Elric: the one and only Fullmetal Alchemist. Ed could bitch like a hairdresser, whine like a toddler, be as dense as a forest in matters of the heart, and be singularly focused to the point of pig-headedness; but he was also the most brilliant alchemist ever to live, with a mind that flew through strategies at fifty plans a minute, selfless to the point of self-sacrifice, and despite consistently and continuously saving Roy from himself he couldn't see he was the aeonian hero.

"Never." He finally responded, voice rough from a well of emotions that was building inside of him. He cycled through anger, upset, dumbfoundedness and worry, and settled on a deep-seeded sadness. How could Edward not see how much he meant to Roy? How could he not understand that three and half years ago, when Roy had been sat on his lap after almost being raped earlier in the day, and all Ed had done was cuddle him to sleep, that Roy had fallen in love with him?

Ed shrugged his shoulders.

"But I am, right? A weakness." He assessed. "People aren't going to like you being with me. They're not gonna be happy that you're with a man at all, but especially not one who has two kids from a previous marriage, is fourteen years younger than you, has my chequered past, and has probably given you AIDS!"

Roy's eyebrows went up in shock without his permission.

"You have not given me AIDS." He mumbled petulantly. Ed mumbled back something equally as petulant without looking at him. Roy rolled his eyes. "You are not a weakness, and have only ever been a weakness to me when I have allowed myself to think too highly of myself. You have no idea whether you have given me anything – the same way I have no idea if I have given you anything. But I am pretty sure neither of us have had AIDS for the last three years and haven't known about it."

Ed looked as if he was going to protest his celibacy over the period of time when Roy had been with Freya, but then seemed to think better of it and just crossed his arms over his chest. Roy imagined he had been with one or two people, early on – but given every clue he had collected on the man since he had moved to East City he highly doubted Ed was spending every weekend with a new partner. He had been far too busy learning how to be a father. Ed picked up both mugs of coffee and shoved one at Roy, who took it gratefully, and tried to give Edward the most reassuring look he could.

"So what's the plan?" He asked, defeated. It sounded to Roy as if he meant for it to mean more than what the plan was for just the next couple of days, but the General didn't want to give himself hope beyond that moment. He clicked his tongue.

"I've set up a meeting with an old friend – Mr Winston Porter of the East City Gazette – and offered him the opportunity to have an exclusive interview with both of us. I'm hoping it will run tomorrow morning and set the record straight regarding our relationship."

Edward hummed low in his throat.

"And what, exactly, is our relationship?" He asked. The simple question took Roy back years, sat in his kitchen in his flat in Central. He really had loved that flat, with it's Art Deco rug and small kitchen table. Freya hadn't liked the rug, and they'd thrown it out in the move, but Roy missed it then, remembering reaching across it in the dark and almost kissing Ed for the first time, only to be interrupted by the questioning voice of a much smaller Sasha. Now, he leant forward and kissed the coffee off of Ed's lips without preamble or theatrics. He was hoping the act might be enough to get him out of defining what they were. He wanted to say boyfriends, but it seemed to juvenile. He had another plan, of course, but there was no telling how Edward might react to it. Finally, the boy sighed. "I can't have the kids dragged into this." He warned. "They get enough shit as it is, with Maesie's speech problems and having divorced parents. I can't drag them through their dad being the lowly fuck-toy of the Fuhrer."

"That's not what you are!" Roy instantly protested. "No part of me wants to see Sasha and Maesie hurt by this either. That's why..." He took a deep breath, it seemed to him it was now or never, but he still wasn't entirely sure if he was ready for it. "I thought that… maybe… perhaps it would be an idea if the two of us made it very clear, to everyone, that we're serious about each other."

Ed rose one eyebrow, and dear-god did he look sexy with the expression, even though Roy knew he was about to be called out on his bullshit.

"Are we serious about each other?" He questioned. Roy nodded.

"I certainly am." He replied. "Enough… enough to ask you… well, I think it's a good idea that we… fuck, I'm getting this all wrong."

Edward seemed to figure out what he was trying to do before Roy had fully formulated how he was even going to do it, if the way his whole body stiffened, his eyes grew wide behind his glasses and his bloody hair seemed to rise in anger.

"That better not be a fucking marriage proposal, Mustang." He spat, making Roy flinch. Because of course it had been a marriage proposal. He'd spoken about it with Riza briefly in the past, and it seemed to make sense. They couldn't half-arse a relationship given the political climate, and Ed was right that there were two children to think about. Roy couldn't allow the papers to continue slandering their new relationship, but if he could get Ed to agree to marry him they could announce it publicly and finally get everyone to realise he wasn't just infatuated with the idea of Edward, but he genuinely wanted to spend his life with this man in a legal and loving fashion. Riza had said he needed to settle down. Although, thinking back, she had also warned him Edward was likely to hit him – and looking at the man in that moment, that seemed to be about to become reality. Edward turned abruptly and walked back into the kitchen. Stupidly, Roy followed. "I'm not marrying you to get you votes, bastard."

The implications came crashing down around Roy, and he winced back a little.

"I never – that's not -" He tried to defend. Ed growled threateningly.

"Of course it is. You want to make it clear to everyone that you're in a stable relationship, that you're a stable person and a good bet for Fuhrership. This isn't about you and me and you know it!" He huffed. "For heaven's sake Mustang, you're a user. You're constantly just using people. You did this to Freya and now you're trying to do this to me. Well, I'm not here to play you're political game so either you can go out there and tell the truth that we've just started dating again and we're seeing how things go, or you can go out there and tell them that we're not an item at all. That's up to you. But I'm not being involved."

Roy thought he probably looked a little shell-shocked, because he couldn't marry the two concepts at all. What he had done to Freya he knew, in hindsight, had been unfair to her. He knew he had used her. But what he was attempting to achieve with Ed was nothing like that. He was asking him to marry him early – yes, he knew that. But then he also felt like he'd waited years for this. It was likely to help the public understand he was in love with the man, and not just fucking him – but that was a side-effect, not a reason. He wanted to marry Ed for the simple reason of love. Which is what he finally told the other man.

"I love you."

Ed scoffed.

"I know, you idiot." He said, which felt like a pretty big reveal to someone who hadn't truly realised it until earlier on that day. But of course Ed had known even before Roy had. The blonde sighed. "Look – I'm not ready to throw myself into a marriage with you – especially not after the last time I decided marrying someone would make me love them. I… of course I have strong feelings for you, and some people might even call that love, but… now isn't the time for that. Now is the time for the public to hear you tell the truth. They don't trust you for the simple fact that you swing both ways, and they don't understand that – but don't feed into their out-dated prejudices that you're untrustworthy by nature by telling lies. Just… fuck, this is cheesy but… if you don't win this election by just being you, then I don't think you'd have really won it at all."

And of course the blonde genius was right, but that didn't make Roy feel any better about the situation. Going to the Gazette and telling them that he and Ed were basically fuck-buddies who wanted to see where their relationship went, and that there was a possibility that he was ill, but he didn't have the results back yet, felt like a terrible political move. On the other hand, that was the reality for a lot of people, and it shouldn't have an effect on whether he would make a good Fuhrer, simply because he wasn't married and stable in his home-life.

"If you win," Ed told him, crossing his arms over his chest and looking like the flare of anger and fight that had fuelled him into spewing the hurtful words at Roy had left him, "you're going to be the first openly queer Fuhrer of Amestris. At that point it doesn't matter what your own personal wants are, because there's this whole community of people out there that are going to be celebrating in the fucking streets. You know it yourself – we've never had that kind of political body looking out for our interests. We're expected to try and fit in and not love who we love – but if you win then that's like saying that the voting public might actually accept us, gay-sex, stigma over STIs and all. You can't let those people down by trying to pretend that we're something that we're not. Not yet. Maybe if you win I could believe that you're marrying me for the right reasons, but until then – I'll be your public boyfriend on the condition that my kids stay out of it, and that's all."

Nodding, Roy decided that for now, that was definitely enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, 
> 
> Sorry for the lack of updates recently. My life seems to have gone on pause ever since we moved, and I'm struggling to get back into any of my hobbies. I have a plan on where this story will end up, and it's just a few more (possibly only two more) chapters to go. I'm hoping I can get back into weekend updates, but I'm not promising anything as my mood has been so low lately I don't want to put undue pressure on myself. I hope I haven't lost too many wonderful commenters, however, as I have really appreciated each one. 
> 
> Thanks again for your support,
> 
> OD


	10. The Vote

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Like I would miss the reveal of Amestris' newest Fuhrer. I'm a citizen now."

Winston Porter was not the only person to write an article about them in the days that followed. After _The_ _Amestrian Times_ had printed their fact-file on Roy, no less than five other major papers had followed suit; attempting to find as much dirt on the Fuhrer-Candidate and anyone affiliated with him as they could. _The_ _Eastern Express_ had even turned their attentions to Hawkeye, and done a horrible expose about her time as a sniper in the Ishval War, which had thrown everyone who knew her into a protective fury – despite the only response from Riza herself being a rueful smile and a reassurance that she had always known that they would target her when Roy ran for Fuhrer. Winston Porter, however, was the only journalist who could brag he had an exclusive interview with Roy and his younger lover, and was, as such, the only article that people wanted to read. Which was a good thing, considering it was the only article that swung anywhere near the truth. Ed was grateful for that at least.

_Mustang and Elric come clean over rumours of dirty diseases_ _–_ the article read.

_Speaking in an exclusive interview with East City Gazette's Winston Porter, Fuhrer-hopeful Roy Mustang speaks candidly about his sexuality, his current lover, and the rumours regarding his sexual health in the run up to the election which will decide who will become the next Fuhrer of Amestris. Sat by his side is ex and current lover, Edward Elric – who served under Mustang as part of the State Alchemist program from ages twelve through sixteen._

" _Ed and I have been seeing each other for a week or so. It's very early days." Mustang admits, and this statement is agreed upon by Elric. Both men vehemently deny any untoward happenings taking place whilst Elric was stationed under Mustang in his teens. Elric had this to say to the rumours regarding his presence in Mustang's office as a child:_

" _Do I look like the kind of man who was groomed as a kid? If Roy had looked at me like that at all he would have ended up with his balls cut off by any one of the guys in the office – but most likely by me."_

_Both men did, however, concede that they had attempted dating a few years prior, just after it was revealed that Mustang was playing for both teams. Elric states with no hesitation that he, too, is bisexual, and that he had enjoyed his date with Mustang at the time, but that they both mutually decided that they should postpone a relationship until they were both ready. In response to questions posed about long-term, live-in girlfriend Freya Collins, Mustang could only apologise._

" _Freya is a wonderful woman, and any man would be lucky to have someone so kind looking out for them. I loved her with all my heart, but I wasn't capable of loving her the way she loved me, and it wasn't fair to either of us to keep pretending that I did – especially when we moved East and Edward came back into my life. I wasn't man enough to set her free, but she was, and I imagine always will be, much smarter than me. She broke up with me just after we moved, and I was upset at the time but actually I don't blame her at all – she deserved better."_

_When questioned whether he had cheated on her with Elric, Mustang said he hadn't, although Elric pitched in that it wasn't long after Mustang and Collins broke up that the two men got together again. Thus came up the question of the rumours of Mustang's sexual health and whether he was fit enough to run for Fuhrer, in which the candidate gave a truthful, honest response._

" _It is my belief that both Edward and I have a clean bill of health, but I can only confirm that in a few weeks time, when the checks we undertook will come back with results. I will not apologise for going to a sexual-health clinic with my partner, and would implore anyone who is sexually active to consider doing the same. No one denies that sexually transmitted diseases and infections are a reality, but getting your sexual-health checked out shouldn't be a big deal._

" _Edward is in no way responsible for my health, nor am I for his. We decided to get checked for our own peace of mind – but if it helps anybody to feel better about my candidacy, I will happily publish my results when they come, no matter what they are. Fuhrer Grumman did an excellent job trying to rehabilitate and encourage peace in this country after the manipulative reign of Fuhrer King Bradley – but he wasn't in power for long, and during his time the corruption Bradley sewed deep into the infrastructure of Amestris was still there. People were still confused and upset over everything that happened on the_ _P_ _romised_ _D_ _ay – and I saw that first hand when a crack-team of men who had been_ _a_ _ffected by Bradley's terrorizing went after my head because they had no idea what really happened that day. It's clear to me now that what this country needs is honesty – and if that starts with me standing up and saying, hey, I'm Roy, I'm bisexual,_ _I'm_ _in love with a man who used to be a brat under my command" - at this point in the interview Mustang was playfully smacked by Elric - "and_ _here's the evidence showing I do or don't have an STD, then so be it."_

_Mustang is up against Gravins, Epcat, and Overlear in the upcoming election, and currently polling in a tied second position with Overlear, behind Gravins, who has a good lead. For more information about how and when to vote, flip to page thirteen._

Winry put the paper down on the table between them and frowned at it; a slight downward curl of her lips that reminded Ed intimately of when they had been married and he'd come home late without an explanation, stinking of beer and slurring his words. That little titbit had not yet made it to the press, and it was another thing Ed was grateful for, because if they knew even a small amount of the shit-show Ed's marriage had been, he would lose Roy the election faster than Sasha could swallow whole cookies. Which was unnaturally fast. His ex-wife tucked a lock of thick blonde hair behind her ear, and Ed noticed she was wearing small studs again – just one in each lobe. She had taken out all of her piercings when they finally divorced, citing how they reminded her too much of when they had all been teenagers and life had been simple, when Ed and Al would buy her earrings. It was nice to see she was moving towards reclaiming the studs for herself.

The phone in her office rang, but she ignored it. A moment later, a young boy with bouncy curls, who looked no older than Ed had when he joined the military scrambled to it and answered it with a squeaky voice.

"Rockbell Automail, how can I help?" He said, waited, and then opened his mouth to call for Winry, who held up a hand distractedly.

"Take a message, Click." She told him, and he hopped to it. An apprentice, Ed wagered.

Winry crossed one leg over the other, her arms over her chest, and leant back in her comfortable looking wing-back. Ed was perched on a stool – the same kind of stool she used for small adjustments. She shot him a saddened look. Outside, Rush Valley continued to live up to it's name. Despite the cold weather, the streets were packed with people. Inside, the workspace and office were mostly quiet, but for the mumbled yeps and ahuhs that Click was uttering into the telephone. Off the back of that office was a door that lead to a staircase, which lead to the flat above the shop – where Winry lived full time, and their children lived part-time. Right at that moment, Sasha and Maesie were at school. Ed hadn't thought it wise to swing a sick day for the Thursday, so he waited for his normal Friday day off before high-tailing it down the motorway towards Rush Valley for a catch up with the mother of his children.

Winry had greeted him with the paper, with the article that had been published Thursday morning, which was exactly what Ed had expected, even though he'd threatened Winston Porter with every swear under the sun should he even allude to the kids in the article. Winry fluffed up her hair a little at the back, looking tired. She had a few more lines on her face since the last time Ed had seen her, and her platinum blonde was beginning to look a little silvery. She was way too young to look like that, and a painful stab of guilt hit Ed in the stomach. Upstairs, a dog started barking. Winry closed her eyes, but smiled.

"That's Pat." She said, pointing to the ceiling. "Sasha named him, after some character in a comic book or something. Mae can have full conversations with that dog. They just bark at each other."

Ed smiled at the image, then thought he should tell Winry about Maesie's signing, which she had practised together with him wonderfully in the couple of days since Roy's first lesson. The man had agreed to come back that night if he could get away from the campaigning to do another lesson, and thinking about it had Ed feeling warm all over. Then he thought that telling Winry about the signing meant telling her that Roy was teaching them, which brought them back to the subject of Roy, which was -

"I always said he was a good man, you know."

\- Apparently inevitable.

"Yeah, you did." Ed replied. Winry tapped the table, and nodded at his leg.

"Might as well do a check-up whilst we're here. When was the last time I had a look at this, anyway?"

Ed winced, but obediently put his heavy auto-mail leg on her table, over the newspaper with it's interview with he and Roy. It may have been his leg, but it was still Winry's best work, and Ed knew she'd be damned if it wasn't properly serviced. And by properly she meant by her.

"A while." He mumbled, ignoring her angry tutting as she pulled up his trouser leg and saw the scratches and scuffs of everyday use. "Look, it probably wont work out. If he gets fuhrer then he'll move back to Central, and I don't wanna move back there. I don't wanna be first-lady."

Winry snorted in amusement, presumably at the image of Ed totting around behind Mustang holding a purse and simpering at cameras.

"Too fucking right." She mumbled, having pulled a screw-driver towards herself. She began unscrewing a cap over some of the wires, and Ed tilted his head back and hoped she wouldn't tell him he'd grown again and would need a new leg, which would require a painful attachment. He figured he still had a few years left on that leg before it started to rust and he'd need an upgrade. Winry flicked a blue cable in the inner workings and an odd tingle ran up Ed's thigh. "He doesn't have to move to Central, though."

"He does if he wins." Ed insisted, but Winry just shook her head, running the pad of her thumb down the same blue cable that made Ed want to squirm in his seat.

"Just because the last few Fuhrer's did, doesn't mean he has to." She explained. "Fuhrer Devine, the first Fuhrer of Amestris, ruled from East City. East City used to be the centre of Amestris, but we expanded westward and thus needed a new capital, and things got renamed. Either way, he'll be the Fuhrer – he can do what he wants."

Ed frowned. Winry had always been pretty good at knowing her history. He and Al were scientists, but Winry was a political bomb-shell wrapped up in the outer-skin of an engineer. If She hadn't been born to create intricate metal limbs, she might well have gone down the route of academia.

"What if he wants to move back to Central?" He asked, hating how worried he sounded.

He reminded himself once more that he wasn't some teenage girl, and that if Roy did leave for the capital it wouldn't be the end of the world. Ed would move on. He then reminded himself that he had barely moved on three and a half years ago when it had been his decision to leave things off with the man. Winry screwed the cap back on over the top of the wires, grabbed a cloth and began shining up the metal of his leg.

"Well, you're his boyfriend – ask him." She huffed, and then decided she was done. "Come back for a full service in six months, or I'll send the kids back to you high on sugar."

And with no doubt in his mind that Winry would do just that, he agreed.

* * *

The next week was a flurry of activities. If Roy wasn't needed to debate alongside his rivals, he was giving speeches, answering questions from journalists, writing plans of action and putting his best foot forward. The article from Porter had done a really good job of rehabilitating him to the general public's good books, and the advice he had received from Ed – to just be honest – had worked to such a high degree that it had become a focus on his campaign. He was now known as the candidate that told the truth, and it was really resonating with people. There was still a lot of stigma about his sexuality and health – on more than one occasion he'd been ducked down into a car to avoid people trying to attack him, shouting bigoted views on who he fucked, but Riza assured him that even that was endearing him to voters – and on the plus side, until his clean bill of health was released, the anti-gay stigma that he likely had AIDS, and a serious lack of understanding of how AIDS was contracted, meant that at least no one had asked him to kiss their babies.

He spent his days campaigning, and when he got a moment, he rushed to Ed's house, where he spent some delightful evenings speaking in sign with Ed, Sasha and Maesie – who was coming on so well she was forming the key words in most sentences she wanted to say. Then, when the children had gone to bed, Roy was able to enjoy some private time with Ed.

Sister Mary Benedicta called the landline on Saturday morning, told him she had rushed through the results having read the article, and that they were both clean. Which, over elation they could publish something concrete before the vote, and also that they were not diseased, lead to a rather vigorous round of fucking, in which they both had to be very quiet because the children were playing 'Pirates in Hospital' down stairs.

They published the clean bill of health – and Roy's poll results spiked so that he was only a couple of points behind Gravins.

"Polls aren't indicative of an actual vote, though." Roy fretted come the early hours of Wednesday morning.

He, Edward and the rest of team Mustang were gathered in his office in Eastern Command, as good a place as any to meet, as they waited for the vote results. Sasha and Maesie were curled up asleep in office chairs, with a blanket that Roy had transfigured thrown over each of them. It was two in the morning and there wouldn't be long left to wait, and Roy had made the same statement about polls twenty times – but no one had the heart to take the mickey. Edward was loosely holding his hand, sat on a desk and staring into space. Havoc had gone through an entire pack of cigarettes, which he was smoking out of a window out of courtesy for the children present. Fuery kept falling asleep at his desk. Fallman was pacing something horrid. Riza had cleaned her gun a grand total of six times.

"Good, because otherwise you'd lose by three points." Breda mumbled.

Suddenly, the phone on Roy's desk let out a shrill, vibrating ring, and everyone jumped. Roy looked at the offending landline in horror, then, after a moment, managed to convince his body into action. He let go of Ed's hand, stumbled around the desk and picked up the phone, holding it to his ear with a horrible feeling of dread settling in his stomach.

"Hello?" He asked. He'd never had to do this before. Who would be on the other end of the line? A nameless, faceless person telling him he had lost or won the fight of his life?

"I'm at the gates of the command centre and freezing my tits off out here. Let me up."

That, of course, had not been what Roy had expected to hear at all – but he recognised the odd mix of Amestrian said with an accent that wasn't quite Drachman, and almost managed to laugh.

"You really came all that way for me?" He asked. The woman on the other end of the line laughed back, but hers was not as kind.

"I was passing by." She excused, as Roy motioned for Havoc to go and let her in. A few moments later, a slim Xingese woman strolled into the office as if she owned it.

Ming-Yue had changed a little since the last time Roy had seen her. Her buzz-cut had grown out a little and was choppy around her ears, making her look a little more feminine. She had added snake-bite piercings to the underside of her lip, and was wearing a crimson halter-neck top with studded black shorts, despite the fact that it was the middle of winter – along with her customary thigh-high boots. She stood in the doorway, put one hand on her hip, which had a rather impressive silver pistol strapped to it in a holster, and surveyed the room.

"How long have you been sat here feeling sorry for yourself?" She asked. Roy knew better than to attempt lying to her.

"At least six hours." He assessed. He watched her eyes take him in. She had never worn make up, but her face was still strikingly beautiful. Her dark iris' narrowed as she looked over his dress uniform, complete with his ignition gloves, and then they flickered away and landed on Ed, who was looking at her with a rather dumbfounded expression.

She instantly started hissing at him in rapid-fire Xingese, and Roy was taken right back to Central, having Ed as his bodyguard and listening to he and Ming-yue argue everyday in a language he didn't know. He couldn't help but smile at the interaction.

"Why are you here?" Ed finally asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ming-Yue rolled her eyes at him.

"Like I would miss the reveal of Amestris' newest Fuhrer. I'm a citizen now." She said, almost proudly, and then her sharp gaze fell on Roy again. "Besides, you and I need to chat."

That horrible feeling of dread came back to Roy full force. He glanced around the office, let his eyes roam back to the intimidating form of Ming-Yue, and then sighed, nodding. She cocked her head to one corner of the room, and he followed her over there reluctantly. When they were out of immediate earshot of the rest of the team, she began talking in a whisper, glaring all the while.

"I got the message you left on my answering machine." She whispered. "You asked him to marry you?"

Ah, yes. In a bought of insanity after Edward had turned down his folly of a marriage proposal, he had phoned Ming-Yue. It wasn't the first time he had phoned her. It wouldn't be the last. They often spent nights talking about anything and everything under the sun, and he'd learnt a lot about her as person. They'd become friends, of a sort. The sort that only spoke on the phone. He had understood Ed's reasons for saying no, but he'd still been upset – and his go to when he was upset was to ring Ming-Yue. It had been during the day and she didn't pick up (she always picked up past nine, but before that she might be working) and so he'd left a rambling message on her answering machine explaining how he had proposed and Ed had turned him down, but they were still dating and it was okay – and had forgotten that she was not up to date on the goings on between he and Edward to begin with. He winced at her now.

"I did. It was foolish, really."

Ming-Yue nodded.

"Foolish to ask." She mumbled. "Lucky escape."

Roy frowned at her.

"You never have told me why you dislike him so much." He reminded her. All of a sudden her dislike of him felt less funny and more insulting. It was probably because he'd accidentally fallen in love with the man. Ming-Yue rose one eyebrow – the one without the piercing.

"I don't dislike him." She said, which seemed funny to Roy, given how she took every opportunity to snap at Ed, or shoot him down.

"You -" He began, but she held up a hand for silence and Roy was too afraid of her to disobey.

"Ever get him to actually marry you, and I will tell you the story." She bartered, a desperately sad look filling her dark eyes. "Only if you let me be one of your bridesmaid." She added, the sadness disappearing as quickly as it had come, replaced with her customary anger. It was an anger that Roy was beginning to realise was a cover for any other emotion she might show. Ed had done that too, when he was a teenager.

Roy playfully pushed her away, noting the teasing grin on her face that warred with the hardness in her eyes, and inwardly assessed that although he was no bride and would be having no bridesmaids, if he was to, then between Ming-Yue and Riza he would have no trouble finding some. He was still grinning when the phone rang again.

"Fuck." He cursed, the pool of dread that had been present in his stomach since the votes had opened sinking down and making him feel woozy. Ed jumped up from his position on the desk, his heavy metal foot making a grating sound on the tiles of the office floor, and ran one hand through his ridiculously long hair. He glanced at Roy with such a look of worry that Roy was convinced he had lost. When he finally picked up the phone, his usual greeting came out in one breathy gush of words that he was convinced the other interlocutor wouldn't be able to understand.

"Hello, my name is Gerald Pickings, am I currently speaking with General Roy Mustang?" The indistinct voice of a bureaucrat asked. Roy gulped, nodded, and then panicked.

"I mean, yes!" He huffed, realising the other man would not have been able to see his nod, and then realising that adding 'I mean' would not have helped clear that confusion up.

"Then please accept my Congratulations, General – you have been voted the newest Fuhrer of Amestris."

Roy's legs were shaking so badly he almost fell. He managed to slide himself into his chair and make it look deliberate, and gave a wobbly thumbs up to the office, which immediately erupted into hushed, but pleased, exclamations of excitement. Roy had a little trouble listening to the rest of what Pickings' script.

"The official paperwork will be with you by nine A.M., alongside the late Fuhrer Grumman's handover team, who are more than qualified to answer any questions I am sure you have. An official ceremony will be held by two P.M., and from that moment of induction you will be the head of our state. It is a huge responsibility. Please now get some sleep, celebrate if you wish. Write the acceptance speech if your team haven't already thought ahead and made one for you. We look forward to working with you in your new role."

Roy gave a slightly-higher-pitched-than-necessary confirmation that he had heard and understood everything the other man had told him, and cleared his throat before saying goodbye and allowing Pickings to do all the other behind the scenes organising he was undoubtedly responsible for. He placed the phone back down on the hook and stared at it for a moment. Then a bronzed hand waved in front of his vision, curled into a fist. It opened up to reveal some pocket change, and when Roy glanced upwards, Ed was hovering over him, a serene smile on his angelic face, golden eyes crinkled slightly around the edges. Breath stuck in his throat and grew into a ball of pure emotion. He'd wanted to become fuhrer since he was younger than Ed was at that moment. He had wanted to achieve fuhrership since he had witnessed the horrors of war in Ishval, and had maintained the entire way through his adult-life that he was desperate to achieve his dream so that he could create, and see, a better world.

Looking up into Ed's smiling face at that moment, he finally felt as though he had done it.

"Let's go to bed," Roy suggested, pushing himself out of the chair, all but falling into Ed and pulling the slightly shorter man to him, nuzzling his nose into the blonde's neck. Ed made a small giggly sound that had Roy smirking into the crook of bone and skin between his young lovers neck and collar-bone. "Lets get the kids to their own bed, sleep for a while, and wake early so I can take you out for breakfast before I have to get back to work."

Ed nodded his head, and when Roy emerged from his boyfriend's neck he was rolling his eyes, pointing to the rest of the office who were studiously looking anywhere but at their CO's sudden liking for PDA. Roy grinned. His whole body felt light in a way it hadn't for years. He blew a kiss at Riza, who only shook her head in exasperation. Ming-Yue stepped forwards, bundled up Maesie in her arms, and carried the little girl, still fast asleep, towards the door. Roy collected Sasha, who grumbled in being half-awake and then snuggled into Roy's shoulder and began snoring gently.

"I'm staying on your sofa." Ming-Yue stated in Ed's direction, leaving no room for protest. Ed nodded.

"You're always welcome." He mumbled, although he didn't look too happy about it. Roy smiled. He jostled Sasha slightly and they made their way down to Ed's car, where Roy ended up settling himself in the back with Sasha still on his lap. Maesie was tucked securely into a car-seat, and Ming-Yue rode up front with Ed back to the blonde's house.

It occurred to Roy suddenly and with a pinch of awful reality that the housing worries he had been involved in during the last couple of weeks – selling the house to give Freya her share – would quickly become obsolete now that he would be expected to move back to Central to rule from the capital. He put that thought to one side, however, because at least for the night his focus was on enjoying time with his makeshift family.

The blonde angel in his arms rolled over a little, smearing drool and snot across Roy's dress uniform, and Roy couldn't help but laugh because he wouldn't have time to dry-clean it before the ceremony at two in the afternoon. Because Ming-Yue and Ed were arguing in harsh whispers in the front of the car and not looking, he gave into the temptation and pressed a small kiss to the boy's head, then ran one finger down the boy's cheek, trying to wipe away some of the drool. Sasha squirmed.

"Gloves." He mumbled. "Too scritchy."

Roy smiled down at the tiny version of Ed.

"Sorry little man." He replied, instinctively taking the gloves off so he could continuing running his fingers through the boy's soft hair. Sasha curled a little further into him, sighing contentedly at the attention, until:

"Hey – don't call me little!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, 
> 
> Once more apologies for the late updates! I have been super struggling lately, but I managed to get my uni assignment in on time, so that's something! Obviously Christmas is coming up... but I'm kind of hoping I can finish this story before the new year. There is only a few more chapters to go, if I stick to my plan. 
> 
> Yours, 
> 
> OD.


	11. Ming-Yue's Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I have come to ask the help of the most powerful man… the most powerful friend I have. I have come to ask for help from the Fuhrer of Amestris."

Roy was true to his word, waking them all up after a few hours of kip that morning, and dragging Sasha and Maesie out of their respective beds. He piled two sleepy children, one sleepy Ed and one slightly more aggravated than usual Ming-Yue into Ed's car, and after realising Edward was snuggled in the back with his kids, he settled himself a little anxiously into the driver's seat, and adjusted the chair and mirrors to get himself comfortable and safe.

"I honestly thought you didn't have a license." Ed mumbled, still trying to convince his unruly hair into something that looked less tangled and like he had only just crawled out of bed.

Roy frowned at the road, indicated out of the parked position in front of the house that Ed had left it in the night before, and carefully let up on the clutch. He gave it a bit of accelerator and checked his mirrors. The road was quiet enough that he was the only one around, but that hadn't stopped him from making stupid mistakes and totalling cars in the past. All of a sudden he was very aware that there were two small lives in the back-seat.

"There's a café a few roads from here. Make a right." Ming-Yue informed him when he didn't reply to Ed, too busy concentrating on the driving. He turned right. He had forgotten to indicate, but nobody picked him up on it.

They arrived at the café a few minutes later with only one further driving mistake from Roy, when a stray cat flew into the road and Roy had to slam his foot on the break, which resulted in him stalling the car. He parked up forwards into a small bay, and only had to adjust once, so felt fairly proud of himself as he turned the engine off. Edward helped Sasha and Maesie out of the back-seat and into the café, where Sasha ran for the booth near the window, and Maesie furrowed her brow and signed 'cat' repeatedly at Roy.

"He ran away behind the bushes." Roy told her, "I didn't hit it."

Edward was staring at his daughter with tears in his eyes again, so Roy steered him over to the table, sat him down opposite Ming-Yue, who was playing a tickling game with Sasha, and retreated to the counter to order some drinks, checking his watch as he went. He had to be at the office in an hour. Riza would pick him up from the house at quarter to, so they would need to leave the café in about forty minutes; but that was enough time to enjoy his last breakfast with his lover and the children, before he was officially inducted as Fuhrer.

"A pot of really strong black coffee, please." He ordered to the young waitress behind the till, who was staring at him with a slightly slack jaw. He supposed he would have to get used to that. "And two apple juices, please."

The waitress hiccuped.

"Yessir, Mister Fuhrer, sir." She squeaked, writing down the order and turning in a rush to put the coffee on. "Um… I can come over to get your food order, if you like." She added, wrestling with the kettle. Roy gave her what he hoped was a forgiving smile.

"Thank you." He told her, turning back to where his guests were settling into the booth. Edward was making some rudimentary signs as he spoke to his daughter across the table. Roy translated in his head.

_R – O – Y. Speak. Cat. Okay._ _You. A – L – P – H – O -N – S – E._ _Together_

Ah, _Roy said the cat was okay,_ _you and Alphonse are so alike_ – signed in the stunted hand-gestures of a newly learning signer. Maesie was clearly still concerned for the cat. Roy couldn't help but smile at the way Edward carefully spelt out each letter in his brother's name, and reminded himself to tell Ed about sign-names, and that his own was the sign for flame. Instinctively, he assigned one for Edward in his head; the two-handed, slightly theatrical sign for gold. Edward would most likely adore the flashiness of it. He was smirking as he slid into the seat beside his lover and opposite Ming-Yue, who was watching the signing interaction with a baffled look.

"This signing," She asked as he settled opposite her, "This works in all languages?"

Roy grinned. It was painfully obvious that she had waited for him to come back to ask the question of him, and not speak to Edward if she could help it. His curiosity over their animosity grew.

"Yep, that's the beauty of it." He replied, "The signs are symbolic where they can be, so just rearrange them to any languages syntax and speak as you sign and jobs a good'un. It's a great way of communicating when you don't share a spoken language, as you can always recognise some signs."

Ming-Yue nodded solemnly, watching as Maesie turned to Roy and signed 'juice'.

"It's coming." He spoke as he signed back. Watching her communicate with him in that way had him intensely grateful that Freya had insisted he learn.

A moment later the waitress who had been shocked and excited to see him came bundling over with two apple-juice cartons and three mugs on a tray, and a large pot of black coffee in her other hand. She placed the coffee down in the middle of the table, and then handed the juices to Sasha and Maesie, before placing the mugs down in front of the adults. Edward instantly reached for the coffee, and poured himself a cup, before handing the pot unceremoniously to Ming-Yue. He took a sip, despite it being steaming hot, and then rested his cheek against the side of the mug, looking sated and sleepy.

"Can I take your food order?" The waitress asked, having clearly composed herself in the time between Roy surprising her at the counter and her coming over with the drinks.

Ming-Yue took a flip through the menu, but Edward turned to the children.

"Pancakes sound good?" He asked, and both nodded their heads enthusiastically. Ed smiled at them. "Great, three lots of pancakes, please." He ordered confidently.

"That sounds good." Roy sighed, "Please make that four lots."

Ming-Yue's pierced eyebrow rose from behind the menu.

"Five." She amended, "With some lemon for mine."

The waitress smiled politely even though Ming-Yue's tone had been gruff and borderline rude, and turned back to the counter to send through their food order to the kitchen Roy assumed was out back. Roy watched her go before turning back to the two children and two adults that made up his breakfast companions. Edward was using the crayons that came with the paper children's menu and doodling on the back of one, with Sasha watching with a look of utmost concentration. When Roy took a closer look he realised his young lover was drawing the transmutation symbols for various chemicals, almost as if he was absently doodling them, if not for the careful, perfect circles outlining each one.

The cross of calcium, the bow and arrow of magnesium, the two straight lines of salt, and so on. After a moment it was obvious to those who knew Alchemy like he and Ed did that every symbol directly related to a chemical in the human body, and his heart clenched with the knowledge of just how Edward knew each drawing so intimately. It was moments like those that he realised that the brilliant blonde before him had never stopped torturing himself for the mistakes of his past. He'd never stopped love alchemy, despite the nightmare it had put him through, and although his relationship with the science had changed, Edward would always find ways to keep himself surrounded by it.

Under the table, he put his hand on his lover's thigh, and Ed dropped the crayon.

"Do you ever regret it?" He asked. Edward would know what he meant.

"Never." He responded, without any hesitation, looking up at Roy through his lashes, smiling ruefully. "But I miss it."

"It certainly has its uses." Roy agreed, although his own relationship with alchemy had always been fraught with regret, and more often than not he wished he had never picked up that first academic text on the hypotheticals of fire wielding. He could never tell Edward, who clearly missed his own connection to the power that fuelled Alchemy so much, that he himself would give it up in a heartbeat.

"Pancakes!" Sasha announced excitedly, interrupting Roy's moment of quiet contemplation.

They all looked up in time to see their waitress balancing plates of fluffy pancakes on a large tray, which she held aloft in one hand as she attempted to slide plates across their booth. One with lemon for Ming-Yue, and four more for everyone else. Once done, she smiled at them all once more.

"I hope they're to your liking, your excellency." She squeaked excitedly, before high-tailing it back to the counter, looking almost shell-shocked that she had had the bravery to speak at all. Roy watched after her with an amused look.

"Your excellency." Ming-Yue scoffed.

Roy gave what he hoped was a bashful smile, neatly cutting the pancakes in front of him into four quarters. On the opposite side of the table Maesie was picking out tiny parts of the fluffy batter with her fingers, and, as Roy watched, and with no hesitation or remorse, flung it at her brother. His barely swallowed down gasp of indignation was drowned out by Sasha's answering screech.

"Daaaaad!" He screamed. "She hit me."

Maesie poked her tongue out and blew a raspberry. She picked up another piece of pancake and took aim. Edward's hand shot out across the table with the instincts and speed he had shown so often during fights for his life when he had been a teenager, and caught the offending piece of pancake out of mid-air, glaring at his daughter.

"Don't throw things at your brother." He admonished.

A moment later Maesie had thrown a piece of pancake at Roy instead, which bounced off his chest and landed on his own plate.

"What did I _just_ say?" Edward asked angrily. Maesie signed 'no' followed by pointing at her brother, which meant Roy had to hide his face behind his hand to not show off his amused smile. Edward huffed, wagging one finger at the small girl. "So help me -" He mumbled.

Roy reached one arm around the back of the booth seat, settling his hand down on Ed's shoulder, and, giving in to instincts, and also because he'd just remembered for the fiftieth time that morning that he had been made Fuhrer, even with his sexuality being called in to question, he placed an affectionate kiss on the man's cheek.

"It's okay." He whispered, because Ed looked like he was getting worked up by his kids antics. The newly appointed head of state took the piece of pancake Maesie had thrown at him and popped in his mouth, sending the little girl a challenging look. "If Maesie wants to throw things at me then that's less pancake for her." He added.

Which meant a scandalised looking Maesie did not throw any more of her food. Ed continued to look at her with an unduly worried expression. After another few seconds of watching her to make sure she wasn't planning on attacking Sasha again, he nodded and went back to his own breakfast, looking down at it with a cute little smile, and bumping Roy's leg under the table in a silent gesture of gratitude.

It was then that Ming-Yue spoke.

"I must speak with you." She said, her tone serious enough in the otherwise laziness of the morning that it dragged Roy's attention to her. She was looking at him with her strikingly dark eyes alight with the same fury he had seen in any soldier who had been on a battlefield, and he found himself sitting straighter, nodding for her to continue. It was obvious just from her tone of voice that what she had to say was business, not personal. She glanced towards the children. "You remember what I told you once, about fathers and daughters in Xing."

Roy's easy going mood evaporated. He remembered in excruciating detail the day Ming-Yue had revealed to him the awful past she had endured at the hands of her own father in Xing. He remembered how she had told him that she wasn't looking for his pity, and that he should grow stronger from the assault he had suffered that day, like she had. He remembered her saying 'fuck you' like it was a prayer, and how many times since he had repeated those same two words after waking from nightmares and having to sleep the rest of the night wearing his gloves.

Shaking, he nodded his head.

"I came here because you have become to me what I would call a friend, Roy." She told him, the striking lines of her face hard and serious, her dark eyes holding eye-contact with him like her life depended on it. Roy felt his heart swell in his chest, thinking to himself that this woman did not call someone her friend easily. Next to him, Ed's hand rested on his thigh in what Roy took to be confirmation of his thoughts. Ming-Yue was all but baring her soul. He nodded once more. She sighed. "This ritual still happens in my country. The tradition runs deep in many of the clans. I have attempted to distance myself, but I was called back to Xing to complete an assignment for the Emperor in recent months, and there I realised that I can no longer ignore the situation. So… I have come to ask the help of the most powerful man… the most powerful friend I have. I have come to ask for help from the Fuhrer of Amestris."

Roy's heart sank in his chest. Before him was this strikingly beautiful woman who had a chip on her shoulder the size of her country. This same woman had counselled him through hundreds of tough, sleepless nights. She had listened to him complain relentlessly about uninteresting titbits of his days, and been a soothing voice on the end of the phone when all he could do was hold the receiver to his ear and sob. She had never once asked for anything in return for her kindness, and never once made Roy feel like an inconvenience or a waste of time. She had guided him through many a tough situation; had met every problem he had with a headstrong sense of justice and a wicked sharp tongue; and had been the only person he felt could truly relate to the awful things he had felt about himself ever since Guttering had shattered his world. She had been his therapist, his confidant, and his friend.

But his first act as Fuhrer could not be declaring his involvement in the affairs of an ancient and powerful country that was not his own, and possibly sparking civil unrest.

"Have you spoken to Emperor Yao about your concerns?" He asked, feeling traitorous for labelling her legitimate and heartbreaking involvement in the awful rituals of Xing's many clans something as trivial as a concern.

Ming-Yue's dark eyes lowered, her face forming her familiar scowl.

"The Emperor is uninterested in the _concerns_ of women." She told him scathingly. "I would not ask this favour of you if men saw women as their equals, Mustang."

It was obvious he had upset her. He wanted nothing more than to pledge his dedication; but the situation was more complicated than that.

"Ming-Yue," He began, trying to form the words to explain how difficult a situation it was. But then she reached across the table and took both his hands in hers. Her nails were trimmed neatly, and painted black. He swallowed painfully around a lump in his throat, looking down at them. When he looked back up into her eyes, he could see the tears brimming there.

"Please." She whispered, then, her lips barely moving and her voice barely audible; "My daughter is there."

* * *

Roy hadn't given Ming-Yue an answer before he had hurried everyone up and they had driven back to Ed's house in a shocked silence, where Riza was waiting to pick him up and he would be hurried away to the office to begin preparations for his swearing in as Fuhrer. He'd changed into his dress uniform in Ed's bedroom, hurried down the stairs in a rush, and stopped in the hallway beside the front door, whilst Riza waited out in her shiny black car for him.

"Will you bring the children, to the ceremony?" He asked Ed quietly, glancing down the hallway to where the door to the living room was open. Ming-Yue was sat on the sofa, entertaining Sasha and Maesie, having not uttered a word after her shocking reveal of having a child.

Ed nodded distractedly, arms crossed over his chest, thinking to himself that Roy, once more, looked incredibly powerful, all dressed up in his uniform and leaving to sign up as the most powerful man in the country.

"What will you do?" He asked, having not been able to think of anything but Ming-Yue the entire ride home, and all whilst Roy had been changing. Roy glanced once more down the corridor, his brow furrowed, knowing instantly what Ed was questioning.

"It's complicated." He replied in a whisper. "Getting involved in another countries affairs is a major political move, and generally not a clever one."

Ed hummed, trying not to convey any judgement with it.

"A daughter." He mumbled. "I didn't even know."

Roy pulled him forwards by his hip and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"I have to go." He excused.

"What am I supposed to say to Ming?" Ed asked. Roy sighed, hand on the doorknob. Outside, Riza pressed on the horn. A pretty gutsy move considering she was hurrying the most important man in the country.

"It's not your job to say anything to her." Roy told him gently. "For now just be her friend. Leave the politics to me."

Ed, not reassured by these words, allowed Roy to squeeze his arm in what was likely supposed to be a reassuring gesture, and watched as he made his way out of the house and into Riza's car. After she had pulled away, Ed shut the door and turned back into the house. The short walk down the hall to the living room felt like too little time to compose himself for talking to his friend after the reveal in the restaurant, and he wished he had been able to leave with Roy at that moment, and not have to fill the time between then and the official ceremony at two PM.

When he reached the living room he saw Ming-Yue sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa, with Sasha sat next to her showing her the spaceship he'd made out of Lego. Ed stopped for a moment in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and just watched her. She had always had a special relationship with Sasha, more so than Maesie. He had only been a couple of weeks old when Ming-Yue had first met him. She had held him in her arms and he had gripped her little finger with a strong hold and it had been clear as day from the look on her face that he had melted her ice-cold heart. She had spent the entire night looking after him, that time, the night Winry had got pregnant with Maesie. He had been her Sasha-bug ever since.

Knowing she had her own child, somewhere in Xing, put a whole new spin on that.

She somehow seemed so much softer than before.

"How old is she?" He asked, keeping his tone light. Ming-Yue looked up from the Lego spaceship, looking impossibly small on the floor. She had always been petite, but made up for that with her edgy piercings and intensely angry attitude. Then, she just looked small.

"She had her sixth birthday about one month ago." Ming-Yue told him, turning her face away.

Edward did some quick maths in his head, curiosity getting the better of him to find out a birth year, and then instinctively subtracted nine months. When he had a date of conception, without even really meaning to have worked out that much, his blood ran cold in his veins.

"That day, in Xing." He sighed, stepping into the room and falling to his knees in front of her.

Sasha sent him an odd look, and then went back to making laser-gun noises to accompany his creation, flying the ship through the air in front of him. Ming-Yue's daughter, Ed realised, was the same age as Maesie, minus a few months. The thought made him feel sick.

The woman nodded, still not looking at him.

"I've never said… how sorry I am." Ed tried, his voice coming out in a strained whisper, his emotions over what had happened almost seven years prior getting the better of him.

Ming-Yue shook her head. They hadn't spoken to or seen each other for a year or so after what had happened; Ed would never have known his friend was even pregnant. He hadn't even known Ming-Yue was capable of having children. He couldn't pinpoint why, but he had always thought that she had made the decision long before to take measures so that she would never have the burden of her own children to worry about.

"You have not." She agreed stonily.

"I am." Edward carried on, pushing away his awkwardness over the whole affair. "I know I'll never regain your trust again. But I am sorry."

Ming-Yue turned back to him, and looked at him for a long time. Sasha made another spaceship and gave it to her, which she took without looking at the boy. Finally, she made a noise in her throat to acknowledge she had heard him, but showed no signs of forgiveness.

"I gave her to my sister, Jin-Chi." She told him, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting in silence. She fiddled with the Lego in her hands. "She… the child is not aware that I am her mother. She believes me her aunt."

Edward couldn't help but look to his own children, his beautiful, spun-gold babies. He complained often of how difficult it was to raise them, and the worries he had about Maesie's speech problems – but thinking of the torture Ming-Yue had been through, his children's lives were carefree and privileged. He loved them so much it was almost impossible to imagine giving them up, even in to the care of a sibling. Even into the care of Alphonse. What could have compelled Ming-Yue, who could take on the entire world with two bullets and her fists, to give up her own flesh and blood.

"I visit her, sometimes." Ming-Yue continued, wistfully, her voice impossibly quiet like she was confessing a deep, disgusting secret – not that she rightfully visited her daughter. Ed made himself more comfortable on the floor, sitting cross-legged. "For many years she has been living in Hangshao, living a quiet, simple life. But I received a letter a couple of months ago notifying me that she had moved back to Shengdu. My recent visit confirmed she is living back with my family in the village."

"Can't you take her, bring her here?" Edward asked, although in his heart he already knew the answer. Even so, Ming-Yue shook her head.

"I have no claim to her now." She informed him. "I never told anyone she was mine but my sister, who has raised her as her own and will not give her up – despite knowing what happens to girls there." She stopped, looking mutinous for a moment. "I can not even enter the village."

The unspoken words that otherwise Ming-Yue would likely steal her child from her bed and carry her back to the safety of Amestris under the cloak of night was clear. She didn't have to say it; Ed would have done the same thing in a heartbeat for his own children. The woman in front of him looked impossibly sad. Ed could feel his own heart breaking in his chest. He wanted to promise her he would travel to Xing himself to retrieve her daughter. He wanted to promise her Roy's involvement.

But he knew he couldn't.

* * *

Ming-Yue had spoken little more of her daughter in the time stretching between their breakfast and leaving for the ceremony later that afternoon. Edward had spent the morning entertaining the children, had made them all some lunch, and had begun the process of battling his children into looking presentable, whilst inwardly debating with himself whether he should question the woman more on the girl in Xing.

He wrangled Maesie into a ruffled pink dress that flared outwards when she twirled, and some white tights that had purple butterflies up the side. He wrestled Sasha into a smart navy blue shirt and some black jeans, and even managed to win the fight over getting to run a hair brush through his hair. He'd neatly parted it to one side, but by the time he'd turned his back Sasha had already messed it back up. He was just attempting to convince his daughter to let him braid her hair when Ming-Yue entered the upstairs bedroom to see him with his automail leg swung over his daughter, holding her down whilst he attempted to part the top section of her hair in to three equal sections. She was holding his keys in one hand, and leant against the door frame, the eyebrow with the piercing raised.

"We shall be late if we do not leave now." She informed him. Ed nodded distractedly, looping up more hair into the second stitch with his pinky finger.

"We'll be done in a minute. Warm the car up, get Sasha buckled in and we'll meet you down there." He ordered, countering Maesie attempting to pull away and looping more loose hair into the braid. A moment later he was securing a hair tie around the ends of her plait successfully.

He didn't wear his hair in an Aerugian Braid for the entirety of his teenage years for nothing.

Releasing his daughter, he had just about enough time to check his own reflection in the mirror on the landing before having to run after her to the car. He'd opted for a crisp white shirt and a deep brown waist coat, with some matching smart trousers. His own hair had been brushed, was currently down, but he had a rubber-band around his wrist to rectify that. He pushed his glasses back up his nose, thinking he would need to tighten them a little, and sighed. He glanced across the hall, and paced the landing to his own bedroom. There, in the small set of drawers next to the bed, nestled amongst his socks, was the dull shine of a silver pocket watch. He pulled it out, running this thumb over the Amestrian Military insignia that had defined so much of his formative years.

Who would have thought that thirteen years after he had first taken his State Alchemy exam he would be fucking the Fuhrer?

He smiled a little ruefully to himself, and, giving in to nostalgia, fastened the clip to his belt loop and placed the watch in his pocket – the silver chain hanging down in a loop against his leg. It was less of a fashion statement without the leather pants.

From downstairs came an incoherent yell, which Edward had learnt over time was Maesie-speak for 'dad get your arse down stairs now'. He rushed down the steps, slid into position next to her at the front door and helped her do up the fiddly buckles on the pink Mary-Jane's she had chosen, which, Ed had to admit, went perfectly with the ruffled dress and butterfly tights. He slipped into his own brown loafers and hooked down his overcoat from the hooks by the front door, flinging it over his arm and taking Maesie by her hand to lead her out to the car. Ming-Yue was sat in the driver's seat, tapping her thumb impatiently against the steering wheel. Sasha was frowning out the window from the back, and when Ed opened the door to place Maesie in her seat he instantly began whining.

"Why do we have to go to this stupid thing?" He asked. Edward rolled his eyes as he clipped Maesie in.

"Because the entire country is going to want to be there, and we got an invitation. And as Roy's family we have to show our..."

He trailed off, blushing to himself. He hadn't even established whether he loved Roy, or was just loving fucking him, as of that moment, and he was already professing himself the man's family? He was beginning to think far too highly of himself. From the front seat, Ming-Yue turned to him and clicked her tongue.

"You are pathetic." She told him with no hesitation.

Edward finished buckling his daughter in, slammed the door closed with a bit too much force, and slid into the front passenger seat, still feeling oddly warm around the ears. Ming-Yue had started pulling away from the curb before he'd even strapped in. They drove in silence, whilst Ed put his hair up into a braid of his own, to Eastern Headquarters, where a few floors up Roy's team would be working vigorously to make last minute adjustments to his speech, or ensure the snot-smear Sasha had left on his uniform last night was eradicated. Roy himself would likely be exhausted, having spent the day talking shop and the evening before up all night waiting for the results.

They'd arrived half an hour early, before the rest of the crowds, but only because as Roy's appointed guests they were expected to. Ming-Yue parked up close to the gates and Edward carried Maesie so that she didn't try to wonder off. Sasha held Ming-Yue's hand, acting surprisingly well-behaved and clearly in awe of the military building during daylight. He had been very sleepy when Ed had taken him there the previous night. As the military gate guard showed them across the courtyard Edward saw a large one foot stage had been built in the middle of it, decorated with the strong insignia that was also on Ed's watch, and with a pulpit in the middle with a microphone for Roy to speak into. Somehow that made the entire thing seem more real. In half an hour the seats the guards were putting out would begin to fill, and there would be crowds of people outside the gates waiting for a glimpse of the new Fuhrer. And Ed and his little family were being personally escorted to him.

They were escorted directly to Roy's office doors, where the guard rapped smartly on the glass and a moment later Falman opened the door. He smiled when he saw Ed.

"Mr Elric, and family, for his excellency." The guard stated, saluting. Falman waved him away, standing aside so that Edward could enter.

Inside the office was chaotic, with people on the phones, papers in large piles on desks that were wobbling dangerously, and a bunch of officers in uniforms that Edward had never seen before in his life. Stood at the back of the room, face serious and alert, was Roy, flanked by Havoc and Hawkeye.

"Edward's here!" He was announced, and Ed had the singular pleasure of watching Roy's expression go from serious-business dog of the military to excitable puppy who'd just heard his human come home. Edward put Maesie down and had only enough presence of mind to make sure she wasn't about to walk right back out the door.

The actual Fuhrer of Amestris pushed the very serious looking man in a dark suit, who had been talking to him, to one side with a gentle wave of his arm and crossed the length of the busy office to collapse into Ed's arms, who caught him with a fond smile and gave him a brief squeeze, using all the muscles he knew Roy was weak for, and felt the man melt into him.

"Fuck it's been a long day." The man mumbled into his shoulder, sighing and becoming more boneless with each exhale.

"I'm here now." Edward mumbled back.

"My hero." Roy smiled, Edward could feel it against his neck as the man turned his face into it and tried to physically bury himself there, away from the harsh realities of being a very big and important man.

Ed wanted to take him apart. He wanted to pin him to the nearest desk and fuck his way inside him and pound him so hard that he wouldn't be able walk up on to the stage outside without the entire damned _country_ knowing what had just happened to him.

But before that, he wanted to use his connections to the Fuhrer to help his friend.

"We need to talk." He sighed.

He felt Roy nod against him, and a moment later his melted puppy had turned back into the most powerful man in the country. He appraised Ed silently, taking in his waist coat and crisp shirt, lowering his eyes down to his waist, and settling on the silver chain that was curling into his pocket. All of a sudden, Edward felt self-conscious about his choice of bringing the watch. He was transported back to being twelve years old again, standing in Mustang's office, thinking that Mustang was the most powerful person he knew. Nothing seemed to have changed. Except now he knew intimately what that same man looked like when writhing on the bed in pleasure, with Ed buried balls deep inside him.

That was a power-trip.

"Over here." Roy ordered, waving him to a corner of the room where no activity was taking place. Edward scanned the room once for his kids. Ming-Yue was fetching Maesie down from a desk she had climbed on to, and Sasha was staring intently at Havoc with a look in his eyes like the chain-smoker was familiar to him. Then he followed Roy to the corner. The man leant against the desk in that space and crossed his arms over his chest, levelling Ed with a worried look. "What did you find out?"

Ed sighed, and pulled his braid down over one shoulder to play with it. Roy's eyes followed the movement.

"She's six years old… the same age as Maesie." The blonde started, watching Ming-Yue placing his own daughter down on the ground again. She had missed out on so many things in her child's life, and despite her prickly character, he had seen her with his children, and knew she would have made a great mum. "She gave her to her sister, because her sister worked in a city so she didn't think the village rituals would affect her. But her sister has recently moved back to Shengdu and Ming-Yue can't set foot in that village and has no record of her being the girl's mother, so no legal claim to her."

"Why can't she enter the village?" Roy asked, looking puzzled.

Ed debated for a moment telling him the entire story – or at least the parts he knew – but it wasn't his story to tell, and if Ming-Yue really saw Roy as the friend she had proclaimed him to be (and Ed would want to know all about how that relationship had developed at some point) then she would one day feel comfortable enough to tell him herself. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't know the details himself.

"Her sister wont relinquish the child." He added, then, gently; "Roy… we have to do something."

He looked over in time to see Roy giving him the same worried look he had given him in the café, and again in his hallway. A feeling of dread settled in his stomach like they were about to get into a fight.

"It is not as simple as it seems Edward," Roy started carefully, looking at Ed warily like he expected to be blown up at. Ed almost expected to blow up. "Laws in Xing are very different. We can't just impose our ideas them because we don't agree with their way of life."

Edward could feel a ball of bile rising in his throat. His fingers began to twitch in agitation.

"So we just let young girls get ritually raped because you're afraid of getting involved?" He asked, tone scathing. "This is Ming's daughter! You're her friend!"

Roy cleared his throat importantly. The sound of it was suddenly grating.

"It's not my country." He insisted.

Edward clenched his fists at his side in an attempt to stop his annoyed fidgeting.

"Then maybe I should go see Ling." He responded, the words sounding like a threat.

They had their desired effect. Roy instantly tensed, meeting Edward's stony glare with one of his own. Given Edward's history with the man, he couldn't blame Roy for what was clear jealousy written all over his features, but he also couldn't help but feel vindicated that his thinly veiled insinuation had given his lover pause for thought. Roy Mustang was not the only country leader Edward had slept with, and he wasn't afraid to use his connections. Ming-Yue was a long standing friend, and although their history was fraught he would do whatever it took to make sure her daughter did not have to suffer the same way she had.

Besides… the girl was the same age as his little girl. He just couldn't let that go.

"I can't stop you." The man replied stonily. It was so far gone from the excited pleasure on his face when Ed had first entered the room. The blonde clenched his teeth angrily. He had wanted Roy to make more a deal out of his hint at seeing Ling again, and was annoyed that his response was so cold and detached.

"Well it's not as if I'm needed here." He huffed, crossing his arms. Roy regarded him coolly for a moment. "I expect you'll be heading back to Central soon enough anyway."

The Fuhrer nodded his head.

"I expected you to come with me, but perhaps you'll be on your way to Xing by then." He glared.

Edward turned away.

"I can't move to Central, Roy. Even if I wanted to." He huffed.

"But you don't want to." Roy supplied. Ed nodded. He didn't want to. The children were settled in their schools, Edward was settled in his job. He opened his mouth to say as much when Roy hissed angrily. "You _want_ to go shack up in the Royal Palace with your Ex!"

Edward recoiled, because that hadn't been what he had meant that at all. Roy, however, had already pushed himself off the table and made to walk away. Then, before Ed knew what he was doing, he had grabbed the Fuhrer of Amestris by the sleeve of his dress uniform, span him around and had him pinned to the desk – hovering over him menacingly. All around them movement and talking stopped. Out of the corner of his eye Edward could see a couple of guns trained on him; although he noted not from Mustang's most trusted team. Beneath him, Roy was breathing heavily.

"I _want_ you to step up." Edward hissed at him, not caring at all about the threat of guns. They wouldn't shoot when he was that close to Roy anyway. "I _want_ to be able to keep my job and keep my children's schools and not have to move to Central and become Amestris' first fucking lady."

"Unhand the Fuhrer, Ed." Hawkeye sighed at him from across the room.

Edward glanced up to see some of the guns trained on him, and the people behind them, looking wary. He grumbled slightly, pushed Roy slightly further into the desk, simply out of aggravation, and then let him up. The Fuhrer brushed down imaginary lint from his dress uniform, clearing his throat once more, and looking a little pink around the ears. The satisfaction Ed had in being able to make him blush was unreal.

"You're shying away from getting involved because you think it'll lose you popularity points!" Ed accused.

Roy turned to him with such a cold expression that Edward actually took a step back. The Fuhrer's couple of extra inches in height seemed to have grown to Edward, putting him once more back to being twelve years old and staring down an impenetrable leader. He wanted to say more – to shout and scream and insist that Roy use his position to help his friend – but Roy turned his back on him, crossed the room and swept up Sasha from where he was engaged in a staring match with Havoc, who looked to be about to lose. Sasha squealed when Roy picked him up, and a moment later the seven year old was pushed into Edward's arms.

"I think it's best you go and find your seats." The man said in a cold tone, and at his words a man Edward didn't know in military uniform had appeared at Ed's side and put a hand on his elbow, as if to guide him away.

"We're not done talking." Edward hissed.

"Yes," Roy shot back, turning his shoulder to him. "We are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the absence of this story. I honestly had no idea how long it had been. I am working on it again now.


	12. Making the Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sometimes things really are as simple as deciding you're going to do something and then doing it."

Roy watched the door close behind Ed and his family, Ed carrying Sasha, who was huffing dramatically, and Ming-Yue carrying Maesie with a characteristic frown on her features, before allowing his mask of careful control to slip. Hawkeye was by his side in an instant, a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"There's a lot he's upset about." He told her, looking still at the closed door.

Outside crowds of people would be sat down on the designated seats in the courtyard, and many, many more would be at the locked gates, attempting to see in. Edward, Ming-Yue and the children would have seats in the second to front row of chairs, on the left hand side. Or so he had been informed. Chris had declined her invitation to the swearing in, but had told him on the phone that she intended on being in the city the same day, and expected the new Fuhrer to treat her to dinner. He could imagine the citizens of East City crowding the gates. The shouts of the reporters attempting to get their questions heard. In a few minutes he would be escorted down the stairs, out across the yard in the November chill, and sworn in on stage. Immediately after he would be expected to make a speech. He would stand on the pedestal and spew words of acceptance, and thanks, and promises of the things he planned to achieve in his time as Fuhrer. He'd read the words Fuery had made up for him, and they were good; clever, vague where they needed to be, with the right touch of personal. He would promise his help to the citizen of Amestris every which way he could.

Yet in his very first trial, he had already failed.

He couldn't just get himself involved in foreign politics. The village rituals that took place in Xing were long standing and ancient. He couldn't put his big fat Amestrian foot into their affairs without inviting some kind of unrest. His want to become Fuhrer had started because of his need to set right the wrongs of Ishval, but getting involved in the affairs of Xing would mean starting his term as Fuhrer in the same way Bradley had done his. The laws had to be changed in Xing, but they weren't his laws to change. He hated to admit it, but if they really wanted those rituals outlawed then the correct course of action was getting in touch with Ling Yao.

But he'd be damned if he let Edward travel to Xing and see that promiscuous brat of an Emperor without some kind of chaperone.

"He can't truly expect you to stay in East City." Riza frowned, her sharp hearing meaning she had probably heard Edward's angry huffs about not wanting to leave the city. He wondered if she had heard more – about Ming-Yue's elusive daughter, an entire desert away. "Fuhrer's serve their terms in Central. What did he think would happen when you were elected? As head of state you should be in the Capital."

Roy sighed. That seemed like the least of his worries.

Losing popularity points, he scoffed to himself, was such a juvenile way of putting the massive decision Edward was trying to get him to make. Of course he wanted to save Ming-Yue's daughter. He wanted nothing more than to help the woman who had helped him so often during the last few years; but he couldn't risk the wrath of the powerful and ruthless Xing Dynasty to do it. No matter how personal Edward's relationship with the Emperor of Xing, Roy had to base his decisions on what was best for his country – not what was best for his friends.

Fuery shuffled some papers on his desk and handed him some cue-cards with a small smile. Roy took them with a nod, feeling the weight of the country settling on his shoulders. He'd spent the entire morning going through paperwork, sorting out the official documentation of his new office; working with Grumman's old team to make it a smooth handover, even given their late Fuhrer's unexpected departure. It hadn't seemed real, but when he stepped on to that stage and was handed his medals by Hawkeye – chosen because of her being the late Fuhrer's granddaughter – it would suddenly become _very_ real. He would have been sworn in as head of state, and the fate of an entire country would be on his shoulders.

He could finally right his wrongs, and finally steer Amestris towards a better future.

"We need to be on the move." Said the man in a dark-grey suit by the door. He was security, but Roy didn't know his name.

He didn't lead Roy through doorways with a hand on his back either.

Which was probably a good thing.

Roy nodded to the man, and a moment later the office had stilled for a moment, before a team of bodyguards had flanked Roy on all sides, and they had set off as a unit. Out of the office; his office, overseeing Eastern Command, which he had only had for a matter of weeks, and to which he would likely not return; and out into the hall. Along it, down the three flights of stairs, out into the lobby and there, they took pause. On the other side of the glass doors leading out to the courtyard was a deafening crowd. Roy could see many people sat on chairs through the sparkling clean glass (Eastern Command had been being deep cleaned all morning in honour of the event) and many more standing at the sides and at the back. He could hear their chatter even with the doors muffling it.

"Whenever you're ready, your excellency, just say the word." One of the nameless security detail told him. Roy nodded to show he had heard, taking a deep breath.

"The word." He mumbled. Around him, some of the very serious men even cracked a smile.

The man at the front opened the door, and like dropping a stone into a pond and watching the water ripple outwards, silence fell over the crowd. His bodyguards marched out first, and paraded Roy along the edge of Eastern Command, under the huge banners with the Amestrian insignia stitched into them, and back on themselves, stopping just short of the one foot tall staging that had been erected in front of the Command Centre's entrance. There the two men in front of him parted, and Roy took the last few steps on his own.

On the other side of the stage were three Generals Roy had known well in his time in the Military. The same men who had made it painstakingly clear that they thought Roy nothing more than an upstart kid. One of them, Stamshaw, had once made a thinly veiled comment about how he believed Roy a paedophile, when he had spotted Roy carrying an asleep Maesie in Central command – the same day he had met the girl.

Now they saluted him. Roy thought he would find a way to have Stamshaw fired.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hawkeye leave the building he had just come from, a small wooden box with a glass lid held in her sniper's hands, which carried the medals Roy would have pinned on him during this ceremony. Grumman had been buried with his own medals, of course, in a private ceremony a few days prior, but in that box were exact replicas of the same shiny golden pins Roy had admired on the old man. His friend marched up the other side of the stage, stood herself next to the painted General's as if she belonged there (and Roy couldn't think of a single person who belonged there more, and less, at the same time) and saluted him – the soft smile on her face the only indication of how pleased she truly was.

He saluted her back with a wink. She forced herself to frown.

General Hakuro was stood beside Stamshaw. Roy had overtaken him in rank some years ago, but Hakuro was his first reporting officer, and the man who had put his name forward for the State Alchemy exam, (the way he had done for Ed, he realised) and so their relationship was more personal than that of the relationship Roy shared with the other two Generals present. Now, the older man stood forward, saluted once more (Roy returned it with only a slightly awkward smile) and produced a small book (The Amestrian code of law) wrapped in the green fabric of the Amestrian flag so that the silver dragon was looking up at Roy.

Roy took off his gloves, stuffed them in his pocket, and placed one of his bare hands on the flag. Hakuro walked him through his oath – but Roy had memorised the words years before, and they came to him like a comforting prayer being said before bedtime.

"I solemnly affirm that I will use my elected power as Fuhrer of Amestris to always ensure the livelihood of her people, and to strive for the betterment of the country." He swore. Bradley had told them all that fighting skirmishes on the boarders was for the betterment and expansion of their beloved country. Roy would show them all that betterment meant peace, trade and compromise where possible.

Hakuro saluted once more, stowed away the book and flag, and Hawkeye stepped forward with her medals. Roy had said those same words over and over to himself so often that they almost seemed anticlimactic now that they were upon him, but as his friend stepped up to him and pinned the first of the medals on his uniform, a huge sense of relief washed through him. They couldn't take away the Fuhrership now – after all this time he had finally won.

"These stars show your rank as most powerful man in the country," Hawkeye muttered to him under her breath, although Roy knew it all anyway. He imagined it was more to calm her nerves than his. She affixed two golden stars to his shoulder stripes, one on each side – making him the only person alive to have four stars tapped there. She then pulled out a red and green striped cloth strip with a round, golden pendant hanging from it, which had the Amestrian dragon etched into it. That dragon had been at the forefront of most of Roy's life. She pinned it in the middle of his ribbon-bar on the left side of his dress-jacket. "This is the medal of Valour." She told him, again, as if he didn't know. It was the most important medal in State history, only ever worn by Fuhrers.

She pinned the medal of Distinguished Service (a red and white striped cloth with a golden disk, etched with an Auseklis) to the left side of the medal of valour, and then she pinned the golden star (gold and white striped cloth, golden star attachment) to the right side. Once she was done, she looked up at him with such hopeful eyes he wanted to sweep her into a hug right then and there on the stage. Instead, he saluted. She returned it with happily flushed cheeks before turning on her heel and back to her spot beside the decorated Generals who were overseeing the ceremony.

He watched her for a just a moment more before turning to the crowd, settling himself behind the pulpit, and taking stock. It was time for his speech. Time for the words that Fuery had prepared painstakingly for him. Time to address _his_ nation. He could see the nameless people of East City lined up at the gates some metres away, and the journalists with their pens and pads readied, standing at the side of the arranged chairs. He could see Havoc, Breda and Falman sat together a few rows back, dressed in their dress-uniforms, with their hats on their laps. Fuery was stood with Roy's protection detail, at the left base of the stage, looking nervous about how Roy would deliver his words. He could see Edward sat one row back, behind the top-tier military personnel and Amestris' leading industry officials, next to Ming-Yue. He had Maesie on his lap, who was fiddling with the rubber-band that had been keeping her hair tied back neatly; which was now falling in little waves over her tiny shoulders. Sasha, sat next to Ed, was not so subtly picking his nose. Roy couldn't help but allow his lips to twitch upwards into a fond smile at the sight. It didn't matter how sombre, and how important, a situation – bogeys would always be more fascinating to children.

"Good afternoon," He started, taking a deep breath, and putting his cue-cards on the pulpit. He almost expected the crowd to parrot it back to him, like a school of children in assembly – _good afternoon Mr Mustang, and everyone else_. When the greeting didn't come back to him, even after a pause, he gulped down some nerves, looked once more to the spun-gold man and his spun-gold children to calm himself, and began to speak. Fuery had done a great job on making his speech personal at the beginning, so that those who still wanted to learn more about their new Fuhrer would truly listen.

"I've spent my entire career battling the assumption that I was too young, and too inexperienced, to be the rank I was. Over the years that simple fact of my age caused many people to think me unable to perform my duties to this country. I had to kick up a lot of drama just to make my name known, and that didn't enamour me to those who thought me too inexperienced. I can't even say I blame them. I know many people will still think me too young to be a good Fuhrer – I don't have the experience that Fuhrer Grumman, or even Fuhrer Bradley had. But my youth _isn't_ a burden. Youth means I'm not yet so jaded as to not care for this beautiful country. Youth means I've got plenty of years ahead of me to affect real change. Fuhrer Grumman did the best he could in the short time he had. I will continue to work on his policies, to strengthen and unite our country, for as long as Amestris will allow me to. I no longer need to cause drama just to make a name for myself, and I can start using that particular skill for the betterment of the country instead." He paused, sighing. He couldn't help but think of Ming-Yue. Of how she had reached across the table in the café and taken his hands in hers, and pleaded with him to save her daughter. Taking on that particular request would mean starting a whole load of drama. "But what I've realised, as I got older, is that sometimes thing's don't actually need to be a huge drama." He continued, reading the words from Fuery's cards. "Sometimes things really are as simple as deciding you're going to do something and then doing it."

He thought of Edward, stood in his office, pinning him to the desk and telling him to step up. He thought of the man making it clear he had no intentions to move to Central City. Some things were more simple than others, he realised, but did that make them so simple that he could just decide to do as he wished? Getting involved in another countries traditions didn't seem so simple at all. He had paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, and he looked out over the enraptured faces of the crowd bellow him, seeing the bitter looks from the other men who had run in the election and lost out to him, sitting straight backed and attempting to look like they weren't sore from the loss.

"I decided at twenty years old that one day I was going to be Fuhrer." He began again, "I was going to help the people in this country heal from the atrocities that have happened here in the past. I was going to strive for a better future. Today, I become Fuhrer, and that simple thought of thinking I can help is still what drives me. I've been working on the same simple goal for my entire adult life, to become Fuhrer and see a better world, and there is nothing that will get in the way of me doing my very best for the people of Amestris…"

Ming-Yue was a citizen now, she had told him. She was part of the people of Amestris – part of his people. He couldn't fail her.

He couldn't fail Edward either, who had sacrificed so much in his life for the good of others, and wanted to stay in East City so that his kids didn't have to sacrifice their relationship with their school, their friends, and their mother. Edward was putting his kids first, he was making the choice the same way he had done three and half years ago. Edward would always chose his children, and Roy would always chose his career. Three and half years ago that had been the only choice available to them. Roy had thought that keeping Edward in his life meant sacrificing his goal of Fuhrership. It was all about popularity points, he realised, remembering Edward hissing the words at him in his office. Roy had spent so long fighting for a great public image to win the very election he had just won, that he had spent years missing out on having happiness in his own life. Yet, he had been surprised time and time again how sometimes just being himself had ended up being the most politically correct move.

But they weren't living in three and half years ago. Roy had won. He didn't have to chose reaching towards the goal of Fuhrership, when the title was already in his hands. He didn't have to shy away from the hard decisions just because it might lose him popularity points, as Edward would say.

"Nothing will stop me from helping the people of Amestris," He repeated, almost dreamily, working out exactly what he wanted to say. "But I don't need to move to Central to do that."

Edward, who had been fussing with Maesie's hair, trying to wrap it back up into the braid whilst the little girl attempted to pull away, snapped his head up in Roy's direction, and Roy allowed himself to give the man a confirming nod. He was about to go way off piste. Fuery would be having kittens. Time to start some drama, he supposed.

"I also decided, not quite so long ago, to let myself be involved in Edward Elric's life again. That, as I am sure you all know, has caused quite a bit of drama. The press would have you believe that we are carrying on some sordid affair that happened when Ed was way too young; that he's suffering from some kind of imprinting I levelled on him when he was a teenager. That is not the case. The truth is that after the Promised Day Edward tendered his resignation and I didn't see him for six years. When he came back in to my life a few years ago he was a man, not a boy, and we we're attracted to each other. It's as simple as that. Some times things are. But there was always this massive overhanging choice; Ed or the Fuhrership? Three and a half years ago I chose the Fuhrership. But you know what? Now I'm deciding that I don't have to choose." He took a deep breath to compose himself as excited whispering broke out amongst he crowd like the buzz of hard-working bees, and the journalists at the sides of the seating area, always more interested in his personal life than his politics, put their pens to paper. "I'm deciding instead that I will be undertaking my duties as Fuhrer from right here, in East City; where my boyfriend works and the kids go to school. I'm deciding... I'm deciding that I wont be shying away from the hard choices simply because they might lose me popularity points."

He looked once more to Ed again, to make sure the blonde had got the message. Edward was staring at him with the same wide-eyed admiration he had tried so hard not to show when he had been a teenager, and the expression had Roy smiling softly.

"All that remains is for me to express my gratitude once more that you have trusted me to become your Fuhrer, and to implore you to trust me again. I can serve my term just as effectively from East City as I could from Central. Where I am will not change my goals, and I can only promise to try to not clog up your public transport here." He said the last part with a cheeky wink, and held up one hand to show he had finished talking.

Immediately the journalists at the sides of the chairs broke into shouted questions, but Fuery had already stepped up to the pulpit to field them, and Roy was able to slip off one side of the stage, where he was enveloped by his security detail and lead back in Eastern Command. He had no doubt Fuery would be capable of getting across the parts of the speech he had written for Roy that Roy had neglected in favour of telling everyone he would be staying in East City, and as the doors closed behind him in Eastern Command's lobby he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief that it wasn't him out there having to deal with the reporters. He had had quite enough of them to last a life time in the last few weeks. But then, as Fuhrer, he should probably get used to that.

He expected the newspapers in the morning would all be focusing on his housing decisions, and once more on his relationship – and could only hope Ed's patience for his personal life being in print wasn't wearing thin just yet.

As it was, there was a knock on the door, and when Roy looked around there was Edward Elric on the other side of the glass, giving Sasha a piggyback whilst Maesie clutched to his trouser-leg the same way she had done when he had met them in the park the first day he had moved to East City. One of the security detail looked like they were going to wave him away, but Roy rushed forwards.

"It's okay." He gushed, opening the doors to let him in.

Edward edged through with one risen eyebrow and put Sasha on the floor, where he and his sister immediately started pretending to be frogs and hopping around the foyer.

"If I was still your bodyguard you would have been in big trouble for that move, mister Fuhrer." He admonished playfully, nodding to where the security detail was looking lost like he wasn't sure whether he had the right to tell the most important man in the country that opening doors without a thorough checking was a security risk.

Everything was a security risk now he was Fuhrer. Roy just wanted to be in Ed's arms, celebrating their victory.

"You're not my bodyguard any more though." Roy shrugged with a playful smile of his own, "So I guess I get away with it."

"Oh we'll have to see about that." Edward replied, his tone going low and sultry, and pulling the Fuhrer towards him with one arm snaked around his hip. Roy laughed as he was pulled flush against his lover's body, and he could tell from the corner of his eye that his new security team did not like the idea of it. He put his hands on Ed's chest, feeling the firm muscles there underneath his white shirt, and fought the urge to bundle into him like a kitten looking for warmth. "Did you really mean that?" Edward asked, tone expressing how worried he truly was. "Are you really staying in the East?"

Roy put his arms around the man's neck and kissed him. Edward's kisses were as perfect as the first time they had kissed in a hospital room three and half years prior, and he sighed against the other man's lips, making Ed chuckle against him.

"I'm staying in the East." He confirmed.

"And the Xing situation?"

Roy paused. It was still a huge choice. Still something he shouldn't get involved in. But Ming-Yue was a citizen, and he wouldn't be failing any of his citizens if he could help it. He nodded, only slightly reluctantly.

"I can't just walk in to Xing and demand they stop rituals that have little to do with me, even if they are vile." He spoke cautiously. He could feel Edward tensing up under his hands, but hoped his next words would go some way to stopping his boyfriend's worry. "But I can certainly use my office to start formal discussions with Emperor Yao about not affiliating my trade routes with villages that partake in such rituals, and see where that leads."

He sighed, which would take years for any real change to take affect, but it was the best he could come up with as a compromise. Then;

"In the mean time – we're going to win Ming-Yue her daughter back. Legally. And make the girl an Amestrian citizen, where no one will ever even think about hurting her."

And Roy could tell how grateful Ed was by the force of his kisses. The blonde pulled him forwards and slightly down to melt their lips together, and, unheeding of the cough of protest from Roy's head bodyguard, hooked his hands at the back of Roy's thighs and hoisted the Fuhrer of Amestris into the air; making Roy moan gently into the kiss as he wrapped his legs around Ed's waist. A moment later Ed had him up against the nearest wall, using his back as a counterbalance, with his legs still bracing him against Edward's body, and the younger man was making a valiant effort to render Roy incoherent by rocking his hips just so.

"Your excellency!" The head bodyguard huffed, "I really must protest."

Roy looked over to see the man was barely looking at him, a bright red flush on his features. The rest of the team were studiously looking elsewhere. One was even making funny faces at Maesie, who was smiling at him with the look of an angel. Roy was beginning to realise that particular face meant she was about to cause some mischief. He patted Ed's shoulder, flushing a little himself, and nodded towards the children. Ed, seeming to remember himself, cleared his throat awkwardly and let him down. Roy adjusted his uniform, finding himself unable to meet the eye of the lead bodyguard.

"Right, well..." He began, and then flushed when Ed sent him a cocky smirk. "I've still got a lot of paperwork to get done..."

Edward glanced towards Sasha, who was eyeing up one of Roy's security details as if wondering how easy he would be to climb.

"I guess I should get out of your hair." He mumbled, looking slightly disappointed. Roy put a hand on his elbow and kissed his cheek.

"Turns out being Fuhrer is time consuming." He joked, making his boyfriend crack a smile. "Hawkeye put her secretary hat on and booked out the entirety of Argentium for a celebratory dinner this evening at six. The entire team will be there… and… my aunt."

Ed's eyebrows shot into his fringe. Roy shrugged in a way he hoped was casual.

"You should bring the children, and… Alphonse and Mei and… well, anyone you want, really. Everyone's bringing their families. It's going to be a party." He informed.

"So I can meet your aunt?" Ed smiled. Roy deliberately didn't look at him.

"I mean… that's not the point of it." He muttered.

He imagined, for a moment, Edward meeting Chris. He had tried, for the most part, to keep his relationships separate from his aunt. She could be overbearing, outspoken and gruff. He had kept Freya from her for three years, because he wholeheartedly believed that Chris would probably make Freya cry, and the whole time he had not been sure of where he expected to end up with the woman, there was no need to subject her to the horror of meeting his only family. But Edward could also be overbearing, outspoken and gruff. He'd probably never met a person more likely to match Chris than Ed was; and he had just committed to serving his term in East City simply to please the brilliant man before him. He was already more committed to Ed than he had ever been to Freya.

Besides, Chris would have his head if she didn't get to size Ed up – after what he had just announced she would definitely want to meet the man who had convinced Roy to stay in East City when he had the opportunity to move back to Central if he wished.

Eventually, he nodded.

"But yeah, you'll meet her."

Edward looked a little worried at the idea, now that Roy looked at him properly – but he couldn't imagine the infallible and borderline-arrogant Edward Elric would ever worry about meeting someone's aunt; whether they be a pseudo-parent or not. Then it occurred to him that since Winry's parents were long passed, and he had known her and her grandmother since childhood, and since his relationship with Ling had been kept in the shadows, that Edward probably didn't have a lot of experience in meeting the in-laws. Somehow that thought made him feel slightly better about what was likely to transpire that evening.

The blonde nodded, and just as Sasha was preparing himself for making a large jump at nameless security guard number three, most likely for the aforementioned climb, Ed snatched him up and dangled him over one shoulder. A moment later he had grabbed Maesie from attempting to scale the stairs and run off somewhere (Roy remembered her doing something similar the first day he'd met her) and had her dangling over his other arm. He kissed Roy one last time, which made Sasha say 'ew' rather loudly, and made his way out of the lobby with a grin.

"Six O'clock, Argentium." He promised.

Roy took a deep breath, watching Sasha dangle sticky dribble from his tongue down Ed's back, and Maesie kick her little legs ferociously to be put down. The scene reminded him for the hundredth time that he wasn't just deciding to get involved with Edward, but with a family unit. He could choose to stay in East City. He could choose to put Ed above the Fuhrership, the way he hadn't three and half years ago. What he could never do, was ask Edward to put him before his children.

Then, on the other side of the glass doors, Edward gave in to Maesie's demands to be put down, and she signed some rudimentary signs to him, and he realised he wasn't just choosing Ed. He was choosing the little boy who thought their PDA was disgusting and who asked Roy round for tea anyway. He was choosing the little girl without any speech who was shy when you first met her and then revealed herself to be the biggest mischief maker Roy had ever known (and god help him he had known the Elric brothers as teenagers). He was choosing Ed, and Sasha, and Maesie all together. He was choosing family.

He brushed down his uniform, and nodded to the head bodyguard to show that he was ready to move up to the office and begin working through the mountains of paperwork they had barely dented that morning, once more. It seemed less daunting though, realising he would have a home, and a family, to return to, after he was finished.


	13. First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I've known you for too many years Ed, and nowhere near enough of them have been together. I don't want to miss out on any more of us; of us as a couple; of us as a family."

Edward arrived at Argentium at five past the hour. The restaurant was high-class and obviously so, even from the outside. The windows were large, and had pretty fairy-lights lining their sills and frames. The heavy oak doors were lined with artfully arranged ivy. The courtyard leading up to the doors had a couple of tables, and although no one was sat at them, due to the chill, both had candles in the middle that were lit and flickering dangerously in the November wind. Ed was shivering a little himself, despite his long brown overcoat resting on his shoulders.

He was a little afraid to enter.

He'd never taken Sasha and Maesie somewhere so fancy before – and despite the fact that he'd bathed them, and re-braided Maesie's hair, and that they were both still in their best clothes, and that he had threatened them with a lifelong grounding should they even think of playing him up, he wasn't sure they were really the type of children to sit still in a pretty restaurant and order fancy dishes and not start a food-fight. As it was Maesie was scrambling over one of the tables in the courtyard and getting dirt all over her best dress. At least she hadn't done that before Roy's address, he supposed.

Which he was still internally reeling from. Just the idea that Roy would choose him – would choose him and his weird, dysfunctional family – over getting to return to Central; a city Roy clearly loved, and where serving his term as Fuhrer would be undoubtedly easier, had him off-kilter. Yet Roy _had_ made the decision to stay in East City just to see where their budding relationship went. It felt like some huge commitment on Roy's part. Ed wasn't sure how to take it. In reality they were only a few weeks in to properly labelling themselves as a couple – and Roy had already attempted to propose and then dedicated himself to the city Edward lived in. He was torn between the niggling worry that Roy was rushing too headlong into them being a _them_ , and an indescribable but eternal gratitude that the man had taken the choice out of Ed's hands.

He didn't _really_ think Roy was rushing, though, he reminded himself. That was him putting up a wall and trying to blame Roy – which in his adulthood he was trying to be more aware of. It didn't feel like rushing. It _couldn't_ feel like rushing to jump into the abyss with Roy. Not with their history. Not when he'd known the man since he was eleven. Differently, perhaps, but Ed could admit to himself that he had never stopped pining for the older man; even when separated by years; and relationships; and continents. He had barely recognised his own feelings as crush when he'd been enamoured with the raw intensity of Colonel R. Mustang, the man Edward had reluctantly served under as a teen; but at twenty-six he was more likely to be honest with himself.

And after carrying a torch for the Flame Alchemist for over a decade, nothing could feel like rushing any-more.

"Brother!"

He whirled around to see Alphonse walking down the road with one hand over his head in a wave and huge grin on his face. His other hand was clutching Mei's delicate one, and she was also smiling serenely at him, waddling after Alphonse in the way heavily pregnant women do. She was wearing a pretty empire-line dress that hitched up at the front to accommodate her rounded belly, and Al was wearing a smart three piece charcoal grey suit, and looking amazing in it. No cane, Ed noticed – instinctively drinking in every detail about his little brother like he had done every time he laid eyes on the boy since Alphonse was restored to his original body. His heart bloomed in his chest like a rose, making it difficult for a moment to breathe, and leaving Edward with a feeling of utter joy.

"Uncle Al!" Sasha screamed excitedly from Edward's side, loosening his grip on Ed's hand and rushing to Alphonse.

Edward let him go without a single thought to the fairly busy street they were next to, like he normally would. Sasha only had eyes for Alphonse; running full pelt at the man, and Alphonse would catch him and bundle him up into a hug that Sasha would not deny his uncle, like he often did to Ed. Sasha was like his father, in that he couldn't deny Alphonse anything.

"Hello little man!" Alphonse smiled, catching Sasha as predicted and hurling him up into the air, where Sasha giggled and bundled into his neck with a contented sigh.

It said volumes about their relationship that although every person who had ever met Sasha called him 'little man', Alphonse was the only one who could do it and not be reprimanded by the boy. A lump formed in Edward's throat watching his son and his brother interact. He had a million bitter-sweet memories of his mother calling him that same nickname. At the time Edward had been proud of it – it meant his mother viewed him as a man, and he was desperate to be the man about the house, after Hohenheim left – but in later years, when he hadn't grown the way he had expected to pre-puberty, anyone calling him 'little' had ended up with the backlash of combining Ed's insecurities over his height and the deep sadness of missing the one person he would allow to call him her 'little man'. Sasha had inherited so much from him; including his shorter stature and his dislike of it being mentioned, and his stomach clenched painfully in what he could only label as a grumbling hope that his boy would never feel the same sadness that went along with the name.

"Hey Al," Edward said, tone wistful in it's gentleness, as his brother reached him. He drew Mei in by her elbows and kissed her cheek. "Mei." He greeted, and then, giving in to the urge of feeling Al's soft, delicate, very real skin under his fingers, he put his hand on the back of his brother's neck and kissed his cheek too.

Alphonse rolled his eyes. The boy had once told Edward he was too touchy-feely, about six months after he had regained his body. To be fair, at the time, Edward couldn't go five minutes without reassuring himself that Alphonse was real, and there, and _breathing_ , and _warm_ – so he could see the boy's point. Not long after Alphonse had travelled out to Xing and, although Ed knew he hadn't done so spitefully, had denied Edward that reaffirming and needed physical affection. Alphonse had not left for Xing to get away from Edward, but Ed couldn't help but put some of blame on his over-attentiveness, and so ever since then he had denied himself the instinct to check his brother over every time he was with the boy. Yet, the urge to touch his brother and feel his warmth had never gone away.

"Mustang is making you soft." Alphonse teased. Then a dark look crossed his face. "I still don't like this situation. But it looks like it's getting serious."

Alphonse had been at the gates for the address – when Edward had called him to invite him to Argentium the boy had picked up the phone with a long tirade about how if Roy planned on staying in East City then the least he could do was introduce himself to Alphonse properly as a potential suitor. And when Ed had finally managed to stop laughing at his little brother using the word _suitor_ he had managed to invite the younger Elric to Argentium so that Roy could do just that.

Maesie climbed down from the table, mud smear on the front panel of her light pink skirt and what looked like a rip in her tights (and Edward frowned because he _liked_ those tights on her and they had been bought from a little boutique in Aerugo when Ming-Yue was on an assignment so they weren't easily replaceable), and waved daintily at Alphonse and Mei. Mei smiled the same smile she had whenever the antics of the Elric children amused her. Edward refrained from telling her she would have to deal with the same crap once her baby figured out how to roll-over.

"So are we going in or have you been standing outside too afraid?" Alphonse asked challengingly. There would have been a time when Edward would have denied vehemently the idea that he even had such emotions as fear. Now he shrugged his shoulders, adopting a sheepish expression.

"It's a very fancy place!" He excused, and Alphonse laughed. The sound was musical.

His brother, Sasha still in his arms, pushed past Edward and opened the oak doors, letting Mei in first, and then ushering Edward and Maesie in afterwards. Inside the restaurant was just as impressive as Edward had worried. Large tables had been pushed together to create long lines of eating space, with comfortable looking chairs on one side and long soft benches on the other. There were artful beams on the ceiling and chandeliers hanging down between them, bathing the room in a romantic glow. There was a healthy chatter of a lot of people stood and talking, who hadn't taken their seats yet. Edward could see Breda with a dark brown bottle in his hands, laughing loudly at something that must have been said in the group of people Edward didn't recognise. Just inside the oak doors was a standing desk holding large menus, and stood by it was a young woman in a smart white shirt and a black pencil skirt.

"We're having a private function here tonight." She told them as they entered, eyeing Maesie's dirt covered dress with distaste that she was trying to hide politely and doing a bad job of.

"They're part of the party." Someone called from in the room. Ed looked up to see Riza sliding up to the counter, giving him a playful wink. Ed grinned at her. "Guest of honour." She added, and turned to Alphonse with her arms wide. "Alphonse!" She greeted, louder than normal. Edward scanned the room for Roy, and found him watching them from a little ways a way. When they caught eye-contact the Fuhrer nodded at Riza and mimed taking a drink. Ah, so the woman had already been celebrating. Edward supposed that seeing years of perseverance come to a head was a good a cause as any to hit the booze.

They were ushered further into the room. Sasha was placed down and Ed watched with a bemused expression as the boy made a bee-line for Havoc, adopting the same glare of concentration as if trying to remember where he had seen the man before. This was the same child, of course, who had remembered staying over night with Roy when he was three, so Ed had little doubt that they had run into the chain-smoker once and Sasha was trying to remember where he had seen the face. Maesie, on the other had, slid right up to the Fuhrer of Amestris and put her arms in the air, as if demanding a cuddle.

The people around Roy looked almost scandalised when without even a moments hesitation Roy picked the girl up, dirt-covered dress and all, and put her on his hip like a god-damn school-mum. Oh, she was going to have him wrapped around her little finger. She instantly started playing with the medals attached to his dress-uniform.

"This must be, um..." One of the nameless people Ed didn't know said as Edward approached the crowd. He had half an eye on Sasha, but Havoc had caught on to the boy's staring now and was re-enacting their match from the morning, whilst the woman who was most likely his date looked miffed that a seven year old was taking his attention.

"Maesie." Roy introduced.

"Mr Elric's girl." Another nameless person supplied.

Ed stepped up next to Roy and put his hand on the Fuhrer's back. Roy smiled at him. Ed resisted the urge to kiss him, since he wasn't sure how much public displays he would be allowed to get away with. He held his hands out to Maesie, but she stubbornly held on to Roy with her little arms wrapped around his neck, and Roy didn't look particularly inclined to give her up either, so he awkwardly put his hands back down. Roy then kissed him on the cheek, which made him feel better.

"You brought Alphonse." He said, as if Edward didn't know, and with a tell-tale hint of worry in his tone. "But no Ming-Yue?"

Edward swallowed, his own worry creeping up on him.

"She's coming separately." He confessed, "She wanted to bring a friend of her own, and I figured you wouldn't mind."

Roy shook his head.

"Of course not. It's a party after all." He smiled, "I don't tend to think of Ming-Yue as having many friends." He added, looking a little sheepish at the confession. Ed didn't see what he had to be embarrassed about, since his understanding of the woman's character was spot on. Ming-Yue had only a few life-long friends who understood her deeper than the pricklier exterior she portrayed.

Ed's mouth instinctively went into a grimace and Roy's own face fell.

"What aren't you telling me?" He asked, understanding Ed's facial expressions with what was obviously years of experience of having to drag information from Ed's teenage self. The blonde winced.

"It's Winry." He confessed. "Ming wanted to bring Winry and I couldn't think of a reason to say no and -"

"Ah." Roy interrupted, adopting an expression of fear that had no business being on the face of the most powerful man in the country.

"But you and Win get on fine, right?" Edward attempted.

"That was before I started banging her ex." He replied crudely. Then, at the shocked gasps coming from the people Roy had been standing with (and Ed got the distinct impression they were obligation invites) he quickly back-pedalled. "I mean, before you and I became involved."

"I'm rubbing off on you." Ed smirked. Roy crinkled his nose in an expression that if Edward was a braver man he might have called bitchy. The blonde sighed. "I talked to her before, about us. I don't think she's upset about you and me or anything."

Roy glanced at Maesie.

"I would be." He mumbled, and when Ed made an amused sound his ears turned a little pink and he attempted to explain himself. "I just mean, if for example Freya and I had had children, and those children already lived with her – and then she got a new boyfriend who was teaching our kids a new language and who gets to see them probably more than I do… I'd be upset."

Edward's heart did a weird back-flip in his chest and the sheer empathy Roy had in him. How could he have thought, even for a moment, that the same man who picked up an orphan kid missing two limbs and did everything in his power to see to it he and his brother got their bodies back, would ever have abandoned Ming-Yue in her time of need? How could he have thought that the same man who wanted to become Fuhrer simply to make the world a better place for everyone else living in it, wouldn't do everything in his power to protect those he loved? Maybe Winry would be upset about the children situation, and Ed couldn't say he would blame her if she was, but he couldn't think of a better man to set an example for Sasha and Maesie.

"I'm in love with you."

The words had fallen from his mouth breathlessly and before Ed could convince himself not to say them. It wasn't a big dramatic reveal. It wasn't life changing. It was just, Ed realised, the truth. He half expected Roy to tease him, but the Fuhrer simply sent him a small smile and, with zero hesitation, said:

"I love you too."

And that was that. Ed realised he wasn't going to have to worry any more about whether things were moving too fast, or whether their coloured past would affect their future. What did it matter? After a decade of putting everything else first, of finding a way to get his brother's body back, of fighting tooth and nail for Roy's ambition to be Fuhrer, and of everything that had happened in between, when they lived in separate cities, he could admit it. He loved Roy Mustang. And Roy Mustang loved him back.

"So this is the boyfriend, huh?"

Ed turned around to see a robust woman wearing a long crimson dress and a string of pearls. Her hair was pinned back in a flurry of curls and her pale skin was sagging slightly with age. She had the same dark eyes and impeccable fashion sense as Roy though, and it was immediately obvious who she was. Roy's aunt. As Ed understood it, the closest thing his lover had to a parent.

"Chris!" Roy exclaimed on seeing her, his back going ramrod straight as if he was standing to attention; adorable and hilarious, and Ed would have laughed if he hadn't been subconsciously propelled into following suit. He supposed he could count himself lucky that the Fuhrer's obligation invites had taken the hint and moved along before witnessing their head of state and his boyfriend lose their shit over a brothel-owner.

"He's young." She shot back, in lieu of a greeting. Ed swallowed nervously. Roy's cheeks coloured slightly.

"He's legal." He responded, which even Ed had to admit was weak.

"Oh, well, as long as he's _legal_." Chris replied, tone bordering sarcastic and not looking at either of them as she rolled a cigarette between her fingers.

"There's no smoking here." A passing waitress told the woman, but with one well-placed look from Chris that Ed would not be forgetting any time soon, the waitress apologised and quickly backed away.

"Chose a restaurant with no smoking." She scoffed, lighting the smoke anyway and taking a long drag. She at least blew the smoke away from where Roy was holding Maesie in his arms. "Remember when you were that small." She said, nodding at the girl in Roy's hold. Maesie was looking at her with her large blue eyes wide with wonder.

"This is Maesie," Roy introduced. "Over there is Sasha," He added, pointing to where Sasha had convinced Havoc into giving him a piggy-back. Ed smiled at the sight. "They're Ed's children. This is Ed."

He put a hand on Ed's back, and, feeling about as nervous as he had done before entering the restaurant, Ed took a step forward and held out his hand. Chris looked him up and down for a long moment before she took it.

"Oh, you're his type all right. How many pounds you pressin'?"

Roy made a very cute noise in the back of his throat, and Ed couldn't help but grin.

"Enough." He replied with what he hoped was a winning smile. Chris didn't seem won over though. He cleared his throat. "Roy's been a great help to my family, over the years. You should be really proud."

Chris gave him another once over, eyes narrowed in a suspicious glare.

"Who says I aint?" She asked.

Ed's nervousness only grew. That line was supposed to be a sure-fire way of winning over in-laws; although Ed could admit he had never had to do this particular side of dating before. He couldn't help but chew on his tongue worriedly. Roy attempted to come to his rescue.

"Edward is a professor at the University of East City." He boasted, "He's the smartest man I know."

A compliment like that, coming from Roy, would have had to have been dragged out of Mustang with torture ten years prior. A true testament to how far they had come.

"Not smart enough to hold on to a wife though, eh." Chris responded blithely. Ed's stomach dropped. So she had a problem with his divorcee-status. Roy made a noise of protest, but the woman scowled at him and continued talking, directly to Edward. "Don't misunderstand me boy – I don't care if you've whored it up with half the city and divorced every one of 'em. I've had three husbands of my own. But I ain't stupid. I know what it's like raisin' a kid on your own. And I only had that idiot to worry after. You've got two. I can see the appeal of needin' a mother-hen-natured live-in-nanny that puts out after the kids are in bed. I do. But my Roy ain't that. Even if he seems it at times. He's got a big important destiny and he's worked damn hard to get here. So if you think for one minute that he's gonna be..."

She paused, looking down. During her speech Roy had put Maesie down, and the little girl had taken it upon herself to find someone new to get affection from. There she was, doe-eyed and cute as a button even with the mud on her dress, tugging on the skirt of Chris' silky crimson gown and smiling up at the woman with the most angelic face she could muster. Ed should nominate her for some kind of acting award.

"I can do both." Roy said in the absence of the woman's rant. "People do, all the time. Being Fuhrer doesn't mean I can't have a family. In fact, history says that some of the best leaders in every country have had families supporting them behind the scenes."

"You're not supposed to be someone's wife, Roy." Chris replied absently, still staring at Maesie. Gently, she put out a hand and smoothed it over Maesie's hair. An instinct of all mother's everywhere.

Roy huffed.

"And I have no _plans_ of being anyone's wife, thank you very much." He shot back, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "Besides, way to set feminism back fifty years. You ran a business and raised a kid. Why can't I run a country and raise some kids as well?"

Chris glanced at him then. Ed did too; noting the fire in his eyes that sparked whenever the man was about to prove someone wrong. By the Gate was he breathtaking. Chris levelled her gaze on Edward.

"I don't dislike you kid." She told him, and then she jabbed Roy in the chest with a manicured finger and without looking at him. "But he's already proven time and time again that he puts you first. Always. Without fail. So you gotta prove to me that you can return the favour."

"Chris -" Roy said, a warning tone to his voice.

She held up a hand to silence him, gave Ed a pointed look that said more than she could ever say in words, and then whatever 'hurt him and they'll never find your body' moment she was having disintegrated into the air, and what was left was a cheerful woman with a wicked smirk, who patted Maesie's head one last time and turned with a wink to go and find other people to talk to.

Ed let out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding. His heart was beating so hard in his chest he was certain he could feel it against his ribs, and the cosy little world view he had adopted when he'd breathlessly told Roy he loved him not ten minutes before seemed to be slipping through his fingers like dry sand. Chris was right. Ever since Roy had picked him up from Pinako's house when he was just eleven years old and missing two limbs, the man had sacrificed so much in order to protect him and his mission. He had put up with god-awful rumours, had shielded him from the murkier goings-on in the military, had risked putting his own goals on hold to fight a media-storm that was Ed's fault; twice now, and was now committing to a city he didn't truly belong in because Ed had thrown a fit.

Talk about childish and ungrateful.

And at what point could Ed ever say he had done the same? He could forgive himself the shit he had put Roy through in his teenage years because he had, after all, been an actual child. But three and half years prior he had put his family above Roy, and he'd been willing to do the same earlier that day. It had never been more obvious that he was still the immature brat Roy had so often accused him of being when he was fifteen and angry at the world. It made sense now why Chris' first words had been to highlight his youth.

"You're thinking too hard." Roy mumbled. Ed shrugged a shoulder helplessly.

"I can never put you first Roy." He answered honestly, hating himself even as he said it. "That's what being a parent is. It means that no matter how much you want to do something, the kids always come first. It doesn't matter how much I want to run off to Central with you – because I would. I would change the kids schools and I'd get a new job or… or I'd go around kissing babies and clutching a fucking handbag as I trailed behind you at parties or whatever; I _would_. But I can't. Because the kids come first, and their mother is here, and all children deserve a relationship with both their parents where they can and -"

"And you're thinking too hard." Roy interrupted, repeating himself with a small little chuckle and bringing Ed to him by his elbows so that they were impossibly close and way too intimate for a public event. "What city we're in is the least of my concerns."

"It's not just the city, Roy." Ed protested. "It's everything. If anything in our relationship ever negatively impacts my children then I'm out. I have to be. Chris is right. You put me first, and I love you for that, but I can't promise the same. I -"

"Edward Elric," Roy huffed, stern, with another interruption, before placing a chaste kiss to Ed's forehead and reminding the blonde that the Fuhrer still had a couple of inches on him. "If anything in our relationship ever negatively impacts those children I'll take myself out of the equation. But it won't ever come to that."

"How can you -"

"I fell in love with a man who had two kids. I knew from the get go that if I wanted to make a go of things with you that meant making a go of things with Sasha and Maesie too. I love you, and I love them too." He confessed. "You don't ever have to put me first, Ed. Chris is just protective. I knew going in that you choose the children – and rightfully so. I'm telling you now that I choose them too." He stopped and smiled and Ed was shaking a little, which was usually a prelude to crying, so he fought for a moment to get his emotions under check. "Sorry Fullmetal, but you're all grown up now. You gotta look after yourself. If it looks like I'm putting you first I'm sorry to tell you it's only because you happen to come along with the two children I'm really putting first."

Ed laughed a little at that, glad the bustling of the restaurant was allowing them to have their heart to heart without too much of a crowd gathering to watch. Roy kissed him again, this time on his nose, which knocked his glasses a little skewed.

"Besides," The man carried on, tone become serious. "There was once a time when I allowed you to walk away from me, and I convinced myself that was me setting my ducks in a row, and letting you put the kids first; but that was a huge mistake on my part. I've known you for too many years Ed, and nowhere near enough of them have been together. I don't want to miss out on any more of us; of us as a couple; of us as a family. I..." He paused. "Ed, the campaign is done. I won. I've got no ulterior motives. So, will you -"

"Mustang, we need to talk."

* * *

If it wasn't for the fact that Alphonse Elric was a god-damn miracle, Roy would have murdered him for the interruption. He had been so freaking close to getting out the question he still desperately wanted to ask Ed, and he was almost certain he was going to get a favourable response that time. But then Elric brother number two had to go and drag him away from Ed at the pinnacle moment, with what looked like it was about to shape up to be the big brother talk coming from the younger and objectively less terrifying sibling.

Roy followed the younger Eric to a part of the restaurant away from Ed's likely curious ears, stopped momentarily to accept a heartfelt thank you from a recently arrived Ming-Yue and to wave awkwardly at his boyfriend's ex-wife, and they arrived in a small alcove with artful beams and a display of luke-warm beers that the restaurant had dutifully provided. Al uncapped one on the edge of the table and passed it to him, and Roy thought to himself how it was that the young boy who was so carefully polite in his teenage years had grown to have so little respect for a restaurant's tables. He could see the nick the uncapping had created in the wood when Alphonse did the same for another beer for himself.

Was it disrespect? Or a show of devil-may-care attitude to put Roy on edge? If so, it was kind of working.

"Cheers, Col – Your Excellency. That's gonna take some getting used to." The man smirked, tipping back the bottle and taking a large gulp. Roy dutifully sipped a little of his own, not willing to lose the pissing contest quite so early on.

"Alphonse." He responded in a measured tone. The man before him, in a smart three piece suit and with his harvest hair neatly trimmed, was very far removed from the emancipated body that had shown up in replace of Al's armour when Edward had first gotten him back. From Ed's stories, Al often still walked with a cane – but there wasn't one in sight that evening. "I hear congratulations are in order. How far along is Mei?"

"Seven months." The other man replied with a small smile that showed a wealth of pride. "It's good to catch up, isn't it?" He added, the smile turning lethal. Roy swallowed.

"It's been a whirlwind of activity. I wish we could have done it sooner." He responded. Years of political undermining and creeping up the military career ladder had taught him how to field leading remarks expertly. Alphonse, however, didn't seem perturbed that his dig hadn't been reacted to.

"Definitely a whirlwind." He agreed with a sunny smile that Roy noted didn't reach his eyes. "You've been very busy these last couple of months. Breaking up with your girlfriend. Running for Fuhrer. Trying to make my niece and nephew like you by teaching them a skill only you know. Dragging my brother into another media-storm. Boy, I could go on." He promised.

Roy sighed.

"Shall we skip to the threats of disembowelment should I hurt him, or did you have more niceties to lie through?" He threw out boldly. Sometimes the only way to move things along was to be brave, after all.

Alphonse took another swig of his beer, so Roy did the same; even though it was pretty vile.

"You've known him since he was eleven, Mustang." He stated, "You're fourteen years older than him."

Roy frowned. He couldn't exactly deny it – so far the man had only said truths. Instead, he nodded. Alphonse breathed out heavily through his nose.

"You're the Fuhrer, the _father_ of our country, and you're fucking a guy with daddy issues. There's no way this isn't taking advantage of him." He assessed. Roy winced a little. He took another sip of beer just for something to do. Pretty much still truths so far. Alphonse sighed. "Come on, you really think he'd be with you if he wasn't desperately looking for a father-figure to cock him down and fuck all his issues away. Ed's the poster-boy for an easy lay if you're older than him and can boss him about a bit!"

Roy was never going to repeat what Al had just said to Edward, the boy would go nuts if he knew that's what Alphonse thought of him. No wonder the younger sibling was worried about Ed being taken advantage of is he genuinely thought that Edward had been affected so much by their father's absenteeism that he would spread his legs for anyone with an authoritative lilt to their tone. The stupid thing was, there was such an easy way to clear this up for Al and get the younger Elric to stop the concerned brother talk; but that would be admitting a personal preference to someone who clearly saw him as someone who… ran the show.

He swallowed nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck in a stalling habit. He knew he couldn't let Alphonse continue to believe his brother was being taken advantage of.

"Our… dynamic… isn't like that." He confessed.

Alphonse did not look convinced.

"Just because you don't believe you're substituting for our dad doesn't mean -"

"He's not spreading his legs because he has daddy issues, okay?" He huffed. "He's not spreading his legs at all."

Hell, he was definitely blushing at this point. And he'd thought the confrontation with Chris had been bad. Why hadn't Edward warned him Alphonse was the crazy protective one in the family? Now the boy was looking at him like a deer caught in headlights. Of which Roy would know, having once almost hit a deer and ended up rolling the car into a ditch.

"You… aren't sleeping together?" He asked. Roy almost wanted to laugh that the boy thought it was more likely that they were being abstinent than that Roy was the one bending over. It was flattering in a way.

He scrubbed one hand down his face.

"No, we sleep together." He hissed, "Not that it's any of your business, and I'll thank you not to spread it around, but if you must know – Ed pitches. And just for your peace of mind, so far he's exclusively pitched. Now that doesn't mean it's always going to be that way; but if things do change up in our relationship I can assure it's not going to be because Ed's in need of any _cocking down_ from a father figure. As I said, it's not our dynamic. Now, if delving way too deep into our sex life has satisfied your worries over whether I'm taking advantage of your brother, do you think maybe now we can change the subject?"

Alphonse, for all his bravado, had gone a very bright shade of pink. Roy had little doubt that he was pretty red himself. The younger man nodded quickly, no longer looking Roy in the eyes, and the Fuhrer had to wonder whether admitting you exclusively bottomed for a man you used to be the boss of was a win or not.

"Right well, just don't hurt him then. Disembowelment was the threat, was it? Yeah. Just… I'm gonna go find Mei."

Roy watched him go reeling over how the man could be so blasé about the idea of his brother getting fucked, but was stammering like a virgin when the truth came out that Roy liked to be on the receiving end. Was it really a more scarring image than thinking of your own brother having sex at all? Elrics… Roy would never understand their weirdly co-dependent relationship, and what was and wasn't okay, he guessed.

He watched as Edward said a few words to his brother, although he couldn't hear from his spot across the room, and smiled, shaking his head a little ruefully, when Alphonse patted his brother heartily on the back and left the older Elric looking confused as he went to retrieve Mei. He took stock for a moment. Riza was laughing merrily at something Feury was telling her, her cheeks pink from booze; and he couldn't blame her for letting her hair down after the years of slogging away at helping him get to where he was that day. Breda was chatting to Havoc's date, who had abandoned him when she realised his attention was being easily redirected to Sasha – who was now sat in Havoc's lap showing the chain-smoker how to make a bird shadow-puppet with his hands. Fallman had bought along his petite wife and their teenage son, who was sulking in one corner reading a book whilst his parents chatted with Alex Armstrong. Olivier Armstrong looked like she was putting the moves on Maria Ross. Denny Brosch was introducing himself to Winry, who had Maesie in her arms, whilst Ming-Yue looked on with a hardened glare.

The only way the celebration could have been more perfect was if Hughes was there to witness it. Yet, looking at the little girl who was his best friends namesake, he knew he would have done the man proud.

He crossed the room and took a seat in the middle of the long table, sitting down opposite where Havoc was sat with Sasha in his lap, looking like he was dying for a smoke. The kid looked up when Roy sat down and grinned.

"Make the sign for butterfly." He requested, and Roy did, the sign similar to the bird Sasha had been showing Havoc.

A moment later Ed sat down by his side and he relaxed a little further into the bench. People began to fill up the tables, as if they had been waiting for Roy to sit before they sat, which seemed a little ridiculous to Roy. The waiters and waitresses filed out as soon as everyone had taken their seats with wine and water, and began to take meal requests. Soon everyone was eating, and the meal passed in a cosy blur as Roy passed compliments with members of his team and enjoyed good food whilst his thigh was pressed up comfortingly against Edward's under the table.

Hours passed, people began to filter out. Havoc's date left with Breda, without Havoc noticing. Olivier excused herself to start making the long journey back up North. Roy's obligatory invites made excuses to get back to their wives, and Fallman dragged his son out by the ear when he found him hitting on a waitress. Soon enough Roy found their long tables had condensed down to a core group. He and Ed, Havoc with Sasha snoozing on his lap, Riza, who looked as if she was already getting the hangover that should have waited till morning. Ming-Yue, and Winry, who was bouncing Maesie gently on her knee. Chris, who was smoking and watching them all carefully. Alphonse, and Mei, who looked just as sleepy as Sasha did. Ed stretched out his hand over the back of the bench and wrapped it around his shoulders. A quiet calm had come over their group.

"We did it." Riza mumbled at the table, where she was resting her forehead and protesting that she wasn't drunk.

"We did." Roy agreed. "But we've a long way to go."

"Party-pooper." Riza whined. Havoc laughed.

"I really hope she remembers this tomorrow at the office. I've never seen her so drunk."

"S'not drunk." The woman protested, although she clearly was. Roy sent the top of her head an affectionate smile.

"So what's the future plans then, Mister Fuhrer?" Asked Mei, one hand over her stomach. Roy sent her a lazy smile.

"For the immediate future, get those two little rascals to bed." He replied, nodding to Sasha drooling on Havoc's shirt, and Maesie who was nodding off every two minutes on her mother's knee.

Havoc looked relieved that someone was going to take the youngest Elric boy away from him, but Winry had a brief moment of sadness in her eyes that reminded Roy of what he had said to Edward at the beginning of the evening; that he would be jealous of someone else looking after his children. He stalled for a moment, but then the mechanic smiled.

"How about I take 'em tonight?" She asked. "I've got Clem in in the morning so I can spend the morning with them. Ed can come get them around midday." She bargained.

Roy didn't want to say no. He'd had so much time with Sasha and Maesie recently, teaching them to sign, it felt wrong to deny their mother the same amount of time. Edward looked more reluctant to agree though.

"I don't wanna put you out Win." He replied. Winry rolled her eyes, looking down at the top of her daughter's head with sad, pretty eyes.

"You wouldn't be." She told him truthfully.

Roy wondered if this was a usual battle. He remembered Edward telling him how much he missed the children when they stayed with their mother. He remembered how he had helped placate that missing by insisting Ed come in to his house in what was a blatant invitation for sex. He wondered, briefly, if he could do that again, until Winry said:

"Come on, I've got these two tonight. Why don't you two go _celebrate_."

Which was about as blatant as Roy could ever be, and he tapped Ed's leg with the toe of his shoe meaningfully to point out that 'celebrating' sounded like a great idea. Ed huffed out a short laugh, and then nodded.

"Okay, I'll be there at midday." He promised, standing and traversing the edge of the table until he could give Maesie a kiss on her forehead and Winry one on her cheek. "Thanks, Win."

Winry winked at him with a wicked smirk. Ed placed a small kiss on Sasha's cheek too, leaning over Havoc awkwardly to do it. Roy stood and followed him towards the door, waving over his shoulder at the assembled group. One of them woof-whistled. Roy would put money on it being Chris.

Ed opened the door for him and guided him through it with a hand on his lower back, and as they crossed the chilly courtyard outside towards the street Roy linked their hands together, entwining their fingers.

"What were you gonna ask me, earlier?" Ed asked, pulling him along the road to where he'd parked the car. "Before Al interrupted." He added for context.

Roy paused, car door open and ready to slip inside. Ed looked at him over the roof. He was stunning, his spun gold hair in he braid he'd kept it in most of his teenage years, the glasses on his face proof of the last three and a half years they'd spent apart. His long brown overcoat staining against his unfairly attractive muscles. He realised he'd been about to hurtle headlong into another rushed proposal, and Ed deserved more than that. Ed deserved the entire damn world, if Roy could wrangle it.

"Will you ever let me top you?" He asked, thinking on the spot, imagining the question had only come to mind after being reminded of his mortifying conversation with Alphonse earlier.

Ed looked shocked for a moment before bursting into angelic laughter. He sank into the car, and Roy, trying not to feel too inadequate that his lover had just laughed at what should have been a reasonable question, settled himself in the passenger seat. They were already driving when Ed said to the road:

"There isn't a damn thing I wouldn't let you do to me, but not tonight." He muttered, "Tonight I'm gonna take the Fuhrer of Amestris apart."

Roy felt his mouth go dry even as his dick gave an interested throb in his dress uniform trousers. Oh, it was good to be Fuhrer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, so in the next few weeks I could be kicked out of my house and have to go live with my parents two counties over whilst my husbands stays here to continue working. We will hopefully know the decision by the end of the month but at the moment we are in limbo. Its a super long story but the punchline is I'm super stressed. I can't guarantee regular updates. I'll update you all once I know more. Od x


	14. In the East

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He finally felt like they were in the right place at the right time.

Ed was a better driver than Roy, judging by the fact that he was perfectly content to roll them through the streets back to their neighbourhood with a one-hand feel on the steering wheel; palming Roy's cock through his dress uniform with his other hand whilst nonchalantly keeping his eyes on the road. Roy would have driven them up the curb by now, and it was a good thing the Fuhrer wasn't in control of any part of the car, because Ed's playful fingers teasing him through the starchy material of trousers would have been more than enough for him to lose any semblance of control at all.

"Edward..." He breathed in what might have been a plea and might have been a warning, head lolling back on to the support and closing his eyes.

"Almost there." Ed replied, just as breathless, but with the low pitch of authority that Roy remembered so fondly from the days Edward had spent as his bodyguard.

Roy swallowed down the desire threatening to burst from him and focused on breathing steadily – and not thrusting up into Ed's hand, which was skimming his dick so expertly; giving him just enough friction to make the most powerful man in the country want to whine like a bitch in heat. Ed turned into their road without signalling, (signalling would require the hand currently occupied teasing Roy into _fucking_ oblivion) and pulled up outside the house Roy had been frequenting regularly under the guise of teaching Ed's family to sign. It wouldn't be the first time they had fucked in that house, but it would be the first time they didn't have to keep painfully quiet on fear of two meddlesome children catching them in the act. If Edward's muttered threats and promises the entire ride home was much to go on, the man was looking forward to being able to go to town. And Roy would send Winry a god-damn fruit basket in the morning.

Roy had vivid memories of being teased for volume, back in his flat in Central, the first time Ed had fucked his way inside him. He should have been embarrassed by the idea that in all that time little had changed; that he was still noisy during sex. Instead, he hoped that Ed's neighbours weren't home – because he expected they would have trouble trying to sleep the moment he and the golden boy next to him made it up the stairs.

Ed put the car in park, unbuckled his belt, (smoothly unbuckling Roy's as well whilst his hand was down between them) and in a moment Roy had crawled over the seats, positioning himself in a straddle on Ed's lap, with the back arched forwards to accommodate the steering wheel.

"Impatient bastard." Ed teased, but smiled into the kiss Roy placed on his lips; hands cradling his head upwards to accommodate the angle, and framing such a perfect sun-god face. Roy wanted to devour him. "Ffffuck." Ed added as Roy ground down into his lap, throwing his head back in such a beautiful move that Roy couldn't be held responsible for instantaneously latching on to the bared neck before him.

Ed's hands came to rest on his hips, pushing him and pulling him into a gentle figure-of-eight sway which created all kinds of perfect friction between Roy's ass and Ed's straining cock – marred only by the issue that they were both way too clothed. Roy whimpered into the younger man's neck, sucking and nibbling and kissing at the exposed skin and hoping to leave a dirty mark there he would be able to remember the night by come the next morning. How and where Ed had learnt that move Roy didn't want to know, but he also wanted to write a letter of appreciation to whoever had taught it to him. Ed sighed almost daintily, the quiet of the car and the angle of his mouth so close to Roy's ear making it seem loud. Then he thrust his hips upwards and Roy's eyes rolled back slightly and he moaned unabashedly, showing them both what loud really meant.

He had just dived in for more kisses when there was a knock on the car door.

Feeling mortified, the Fuhrer peered out the slightly foggy window to see a man dressed in a cheap suit with one hand raised in a fist to knock against the glass of the driver's side window, and the other clutching a recognisable notebook, his thumb trapping a pencil against it. A reporter. A pool of dread overcame his original arousal, and slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the vulture outside, he shimmied from Ed's lap. A moment later Edward had opened the driver's door and was stepping out of the car despite the obscene tent in his smart slacks. Roy hurried around the other side to stand next to him.

"Jordan Flakey, East City Daily." The journalist started spewing the moment Roy was on the pavement. "A line for our readers, your Excellency? Is what I just witnessed a commonality for you? Can the residents of East City expect to see you and Mr Elric indulging such in cars all over the city?"

Roy took a threatening step forward, eyelids lowered in a glare, and felt a curious kind of satisfaction when the reporter scrambled backwards. He rubbed his thumb against his middle finger by his side, feeling the comforting scratch of his ignition gloves, and gave it just enough energy to create a spark. The journalist's eyes flickered down to the crackle of alchemical electricity for a second and he put up his hands in the universal gesture of surrender.

"This is our private property." Roy told him sternly, gesturing at the house as he and Ed stepped into Ed's small front garden. The journalists ears perked up, following them up the path towards the house as he began to question them more.

"So the two of you are living together? You've moved in to Mr Elric's address? Is this in prelude to a wedding? Can the masses that be anticipate a national holiday to celebrate the wedding of the country's first gay Fuhrer and his newly betrothed?"

"We're not… that's not..."

Hell, Roy had thought he was ready for the vultures of tabloidism. He had mistakenly believed that becoming Fuhrer would discourage the reporters from tailing him everywhere – but that only worked for press that actually respected their country's leadership. The gossip columns of papers such as the East City Daily were still out for blood, and without his PR team with him, Roy was faltering under the flurry of razor-sharp and rapid-fire questions. They had almost reached the door, but the reporter had followed them the entire way up the path, and Roy whirled to get the man to back off again, fingers out in front of him, poised to snap.

"No comment." Edward huffed next to him, wrapping one arm around his waist and pulling him back a little against his firm chest. With his other hand he quickly pushed Roy's threatening gloved hand down to his side. "I am asking you to remove yourself from the boundaries of my home, or I will call the police."

The journalist looked worried by Ed's calm rebuttal of his attempts to ease closer to them, and after a moment he held up his hands in surrender again and took the three steps back off of Ed's front lawn. Edward turned, unlocked his front door and ushered Roy inside as the man attempted to shout further questions from the sliver of pavement between Ed's property boundary and the road. Once the door was closed behind them, however, his questions faded out, and when Roy peered through the peep-hole, he had turned to leave.

"They can't just wait outside the house!" Roy hissed angrily at the door. From behind, Edward melted his body against Roy's back, cuddling him into the door, and his fingers began working deftly to undo the many buttons of his dress uniform.

"Yes they can, actually." Ed told his shoulder. "You, however, can't go raising the literal bombs at your fingertips every time someone annoys you. You're the Fuhrer now."

Roy turned in his captive's hold and rested his back against the door, feeling scolded and slightly grumpy because of it. Ed had already slipped off his coat and hung it up, and a quick look down showed he had also toed off his shoes and socks – looking domestic with his toes peeking out under his slightly long dress slacks.

"I felt like we were being ambushed. If the kids had been here -" He mumbled.

Edward cut him off with a shake of his head.

"They weren't." He reminded him solemnly.

"Those tabloid bastards are half the reason why… four years ago..."

Edward sighed, put one hand on the back of Roy's neck and angled him down slightly for a kiss – one of Ed's languid, lazy, perfect kisses.

"They can't hurt us now." He promised. "You won Roy – they published every shit rumour and damaging half-truths they could think of about us and you still won. All those years ago I thought I was standing in the way of you becoming Fuhrer, but today you were sworn in, and no matter what that shit-stain prints tomorrow morning it isn't going to change that. But you can't go around threatening the press – how would it look if the Fuhrer got called up on censorship? Or coercion?"

It said a lot about Roy's mental state that Edward Elric was being the voice of reason. Reluctantly, he nodded his agreement.

"I know, I'm sorry." He mumbled, wrapping his arms around Ed's waist and pulling him forward a little so there was more contact. "I just wasn't expecting it. I saw a threat and..." Deep breath. "There was once a time when I didn't have my gloves on me. When I didn't react fast enough because I didn't see the danger in front of me, and things got really bad really fast."

He clenched his fists around the loose material of Ed's crisp white shirt at his back, and dropped his head to the other man's shoulder. Ed had gone unnaturally stiff. Roy was trying hard not to shake or run the hell away. After a moment, Ed pressed a gentle kiss into his hair.

"I know this probably isn't much comfort, but a protection team have been following you the entire night. I noticed some not so subtle ear-pieces at the restaurant, and we were tailed home by a VGA company car." He explained.

Roy hummed to show he had heard, not yet willing to give up the hug, or the bundling into Ed' firm shoulder. He had known that despite his insistence that he wanted the night to be only a celebration of his closest friends, that some people had to be invited, and some people would be strategically placed to keep a protective watch on him. He had logically known that after being sworn in as Fuhrer he would be allowed to go a grand total of nowhere without a twenty-four-seven team of bodyguards keeping a close eye on him. He had known it, but in the moment in which he had been shocked to see the journalist knocking on the car window, he had forgotten, and only reacted to the danger he saw in front of him.

"I _can_ protect myself." He mumbled petulantly into Ed's shoulder.

"Yes, you can." Ed agreed, "But you shouldn't."

Roy nodded at that. It was a difficult pill to swallow, but he _could_ swallow it. Every fibre of his being was telling him that fighting his way out of any difficult path was the only correct option, but he needed to get himself on the steep learning curve of deferring his bodily protection to someone else. He should have been used to the idea of someone else protecting him – heavens knew Riza had saved his ass more times than he could count, and Edward was pretty well versed in the 'save Roy Mustang' theory as well, but ever since Guttering he saw threats around every corner and jumped at every bump in the night. Always choosing fight was the easiest way to keep himself feeling safe.

Edward was right though; Fuhrers did not go around threatening the press, and starting his career constantly carrying around a powerful weapon like his ignition gloves didn't send a peaceful message. He frowned. He'd feel much more comfortable if Ed still had his alchemy. Heck, since giving up his job at VGA Ed didn't even own a gun. But if the man was to be believed, and Roy had no reason not to believe him, there were invisible bodyguards everywhere that wouldn't let harm come to him or his. So, grinding his teeth slightly, he took a deep breath and took off his gloves.

Leaning back, he presented the starchy material to Ed. The blonde stared at them under the rims of his glasses and then shot his golden irises up to Roy's with a questioning look.

"You don't have to go that far." He stated. Roy shrugged one shoulder helplessly.

"I think I do."

It took Ed another few seconds to collect the gloves from his hands, in which Roy battled with himself constantly not to rip them away, or change his mind. Ed folded them in on themselves, the stitching of Roy's own personal array hidden beneath unassuming white cloth, and lifted them out of Roy's upturned palm with all the care of handling a new born baby.

"Wait here." The blonde ordered, and he turned and walked up the stairs, off to hide the gloves so that when Roy inevitably changed his mind and wanted them back, he could not sneak them back into his possession, and would have to ask Ed for them. Roy watched after his broad back, swallowing down the irrational nervousness that enveloped him the moment Ed had taken the gloves from his hands, and telling himself that waiting alone in a corridor did not automatically mean Guttering was standing on the other side of the door, awaiting his chance to pounce.

A few minutes later Ed came thudding back down the stairs, his mismatched steps more obvious thanks to having further to fall on a downward descent, and Roy's anxiousness abated a little.

"All done." The blonde told him, "Are you okay?"

It should have felt like babying, but Roy was grateful for the opportunity to assess whether sacrificing the security of his gloves was the best decision. Edward was looking at him with such genuine concern that he was able to take stock and realise that the man in front of him had at no point made him feel pathetic or guilty for clinging to his gloves – and that should he say he had changed his mind Edward would retrieve them in a heartbeat. That alone was enough to steel his nerve. Eventually, he nodded. Ed cocked a half-smile and reached for him, and Roy fell into his arms with a heartfelt sigh of contentedness.

"Come on then," Edward ordered gently, "let me take care of you."

He took Roy by the hand and pulled him along the corridor. Roy expected to be lead up the stairs, so was surprised when instead Ed bypassed them and dragged them through the galley kitchen where at the back of the house was a downstairs bathroom. There were still transmutation marks on the door where some weeks prior Roy had used alchemy to unlock it and help Edward wrestle Sasha up to bed. The night Freya had broken up with him. It seemed almost like a lifetime away.

Edward pulled him into the bathroom, pulling on the string to flicker the room into light. The identical room in Roy's house was decorated in blues and whites. It had a wooden anchor hanging on the wall over the bath, a round mirror encased in a chunky life-ring frame and a ceramic sail boat sat on the window sill. Ed's bathroom had tiles that looked like wooden slats that encompassed the lower half of the walls, and were painted purple. The bath was free standing and deep, and there were an assortment of sea-life animal toys lined up along the edge. Ed quickly placed the lid down on the toilet and lowered Roy on to the seat, before running the hot tap into the bath and pouring some creamy pink bubble-bath under it.

"What are you doing?" He questioned from his spot on the toilet lid, watching Ed roll up his sleeves and dip his hand under the pouring tap to test the temperature.

"Romance, Roy." The blonde replied with a smirk over his shoulder. "Sometimes it's this nice prelude to mind blowing sex."

Roy crinkled his nose at him.

"Sure, if you're a simpering housewife." He shot back.

Ed's smirk turned into a gentle smile, his golden eyes swimming with amused fondness and love. Roy rose an eyebrow in askance, but said no more on the subject as Ed prepared the bath, swirling the water around in the tub and frothing up more bubbles. Once he was happy he let the water fill up some more and turned to Roy, lowering himself to his knees in front of Roy and carefully unclasping the shiny cuff-links on Roy's sleeves. He pulled the already unbuttoned jacket from his shoulders, and stood with it, hanging it neatly on the pegs on the back of the bathroom door. A far cry from the man's usual habits of ripping Roy's clothes from him and throwing them haphazardly on whatever surface was closest. Then he returned and slowly, deliberately, unbuttoned his shirt, repeating the process. Once Roy was topless he lowered himself once more to his knees between Roy's open legs and began unlacing his parade boots, tugging them from his feet with a slight amount of firmness and placing them neatly to one side. Roy had been on his feet most of the day and his feet probably stank, but Ed made no comment as he peeled away the standard thick grey socks and balled them up in the boots. Roy wiggled his toes awkwardly for something to do and Ed huffed out a laugh and placed a chaste kiss to the inside of Roy's thigh through his dress trousers.

"You're gonna need to be a lot more naked." Roy insisted, and Ed looked up at him through his glasses, fogging up slightly in the humidity of the bathroom, and mustered a teasing smirk to his lips.

"Yes sir," He breathed, the term of respect supposed to be teasing but coming out a little too serious.

He stood as he dragged his own white shirt from over his head, not bothering to undo any buttons, and threw it on the floor; not showing it anywhere near the respect he had given Roy's dress uniform. His glasses followed suit and were thrown on to the shirt with a soft thump. Roy swallowed as the other man's scarred chest was unveiled, the firm muscles in his stomach flexing slightly as he pulled his arms back down from above his head. Roy realised after a moment that there was no need for Ed's stomach six-pack to flex like that to accommodate the movement of his shoulders, and it became apparent that Ed was definitely putting on a show. The beginnings of the insane arousal he had felt in the car, which had dissipated when they had been ambushed by the journalist, began to come back to him. He wriggled in anticipation as Ed ran his hands down his own sides, travelled them to the front of his slacks and pawed at himself through the material. Then, slowly, like the tease he so clearly was, and with his crotch roughly in line with Roy's head and about three inches away from his mouth, the man pulled down his zip.

Roy was entirely incapable of looking away as Ed reached inside his own underwear and made a performance of touching himself. _Fuck_ , he could just lean forwards and get his mouth on him; but that would be playing right into the other man's hands, and Roy was nothing if not stubborn. As highlighted perfectly by the fact that he was rock hard in his dress trousers and he could taste the masculine sex-smell in the humid air, but he remained still, with his hands lying flat on his knees to avoid them pulling Ed to him by his hips and getting that gorgeous cock in his mouth.

Then Ed turned away, paced to the bath and turned off the tap, testing the water temperature once more and obviously deeming it acceptable because he ushered Roy to him with a look over his shoulder that was all sultry flirting and bedroom eyes. Breathing out heavily through his mouth and standing awkwardly due to the raging hard-on, Roy stumbled to him. Ed caught him, unzipped and unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them and his underwear down his thighs, until gravity took over and they pooled at his feet. Urgency must have taken over because when Roy stepped out of them Ed made no attempt to move them from their position on the floor. Instead he just shoved his own slacks and underwear down to join them, and he stepped over the deep rim of the bath, settling down into the water.

Taking Roy's hand, he helped him into the bubbly bath, steam rising from the surface, and positioned Roy so that when he lowered himself into the warmth the Fuhrer's back was resting against Ed's firm chest, the blonde's legs encircling him on either side, and his arms hugging him securely from behind.

"Slouch down a little." Ed instructed into his shoulder, and Roy had to smile at how their small height difference was enough to make the position a little awkward. Ed seemed to have a plan though, so he slumped a little further until he could rest his head against Ed's shoulder, and the man behind him rewarded him with small kisses placed on his cheek and ear. He pulled his knees up, legs spread as far as they could when cushioned on both sides by Ed's thighs and the sides of the tub, and shivered, even in the heat of the bath, as Ed's hands reached around him and smoothed down his chest and stomach, disappearing under the water and, blessedly, taking a soft hold of his straining erection.

His head fell back on Ed's shoulder with a soft thump and a hitch of Roy's breath that sounded loud in the quiet of the room. He could practically feel Ed grinning behind him as the younger man created small waves in the bath by pumping Roy's cock with lazy movements. Roy reached down in to the water himself and placed one hand over Ed's, falling and rising with Ed's movements and attempting to encourage a firmer hold, as the slippery, bubbly water was easing any resistance. His other hand he placed on the edge of the bath for stability. Then Ed's hand under the water dipped lower, played with his balls for a moment; rolling them and squeezing them gently, and Roy could feel the swell of Ed's own arousal thrusting against his back and allowed himself an appreciative, hopefully encouraging, moan. Ed's fingers slipped behind his balls, and ran a firm line all the way up his taint, before playing with his cock for a little longer. Roy's eyes slipped closed, his stomach drew tight, and his balls felt heavy with semen. His breaths came in short pants of pleasure. Edward handled him like a needy kitten, alternating between giving his dick attention, down to his balls, and then short, incredible swipes of calloused fingers on his taint making him breathless with desperation.

"Edward." He huffed after another wonderful swipe over the sensitive skin behind his balls, which had yet again come damned close to his hole and then ignored it. "Fuck, _please_."

"Hmmmm." Edward hummed into his shoulder, where he was leaving kisses and bite marks that would be covered by his uniform the next day. The hand Ed hadn't been using to play with him had been resting contentedly on his hip, but now he brought it up and took a very gentle hold of Roy's throat. "Tell me what you want, Fuhrer."

Roy couldn't help but cry out, his hips jumping upwards under the water into Ed's waiting hand. He couldn't tell whether it was in reaction to the placement of Ed's hands, the fact that the boy was working his cock expertly, or being called Fuhrer whilst being teased so thoroughly – but he didn't really care. All of it together was creating a wonderful, all together too much, feeling of pleasure to pool deep in Roy's stomach. He needed it to end and never wanted it to.

"You're such a sadistic bastard." He whined.

He'd had hints of Ed's kinks before, but the demands and the feeling of his hand on Roy's throat were more than enough confirmation that Ed was in to power-play. Especially if he got to be in charge. Calling attention to Roy's rank was simply proof that Ed got off on the idea of dominating the most powerful man in the country. And, despite his protests, Roy couldn't be more in to it.

"I want you to fuck me." He sighed. Ed moaned gently against his shoulder and Roy wondered how he would react to some heavier dirty talk. There was only one way to find out. "Fuck, Ed, I want you to fuck me so hard. I want you inside me. Fuck, I _need_ you inside me. Ed -"

"Fucking hell Roy." Ed interrupted with a small amused huff. For a moment a swirl of embarrassment flushed through the Fuhrer, but then Ed licked up his neck and whispered in his ear. "You gonna be a good little slut for me?"

Ed needed to get his hand off of Roy's dick about three seconds ago because the way he whispered 'slut' had him so overstimulated he was sure he was going to finish right then and there. His hips stuttered upwards and a breathy moan escaped his throat, the fingers clutching the side of the tub scratching the porcelain for purchase as Ed stroked him roughly under the water and Roy's eyes rolled back into his head as he came, hard; shooting thick ropes of spunk into the bubbly water. Ed gave a shuddering sigh against Roy's shoulder, and, when it became apparent that Roy was being overstimulated, gently removed his hand from his captive's cock. Roy collapsed back against him, eyes slipping closed and riding out a couple of after shocks.

"Don't think I'm done with you yet, Fuhrer." Ed promised him.

Roy yelped as Ed pushed him forwards in the tub, the water easing the way and sliding Roy along as if he weighed nothing, and then rearranged him until his thighs were resting on his shins in the water, sat back on his knees, and holding on to the taps in front of him as leverage. Waves lapped around them thanks to the changing of position, and then Ed's fingers trailed down his back, making Roy arch at the ticklish feel of it, and slipped between the cheeks of his arse under the water. Ed used the slippery, bubble-bath water to ease his way, and buried his middle finger inside of Roy's orgasm-relaxed body.

Roy choked on his own damn saliva. He was over-sensitive from already coming once, but even as he hissed in a slightly unimpressed breath his spent cock gave a feeble twitch of interest because it was obvious that Ed had every intention of continuing on. His breaths came out high-pitched and wanting as Ed began to fuck him with one thin finger and only warm water easing the way.

"Hey, can you lift yourself up a bit?" Ed asked him, casually, like he wasn't taking Roy apart with every twist of his wrist. "Up on your knees, come on. I want your ass out the water."

Roy was fucking boneless, there was no way he could keep himself up on his knees enough to have his butt above the waterline; but Ed was already pulling on his hips to encourage him into the position he wanted and Roy was loathe to deny the man a thing, so he struggled to his knees, putting more weight on his arms, raising his hips above the surface of the bath water, so that his now soft cock, hanging down between his legs, was just dipping into the waves.

"You're so good Roy." Ed praised, and Roy's dick gave another little twitch in response. "You're so fucking good and pretty."

Roy leant forward a little on to his arms, whimpering as Ed continued to fuck him with one finger – the water slipping from him quickly and leaving the sensation just on the good side of too rough. There was a small commotion behind him as Ed tried to reposition himself into what Roy assumed was something more comfortable to continue fingering him open, and then he gave a surprised little scream that he would definitely deny in the morning, when Ed's tongue joined his finger at Roy's hole.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck." He gasped on every breath, gripping so tightly on to the bath taps he was sure he might break them. Ed's tongue was so wet and soft, in fierce juxtaposition to the finger still fucking him open, and he lapped at Roy's hole with no hesitation, before pushing his tongue inside next to his finger. Roy moaned, ears heating up in mortification. No one had ever put their tongue on him there before, and he'd never done it for anyone else. It seemed far more indecent than anything else he had ever experienced during sex. "Fuck, Ed… that's… it's _dirty_." He all but whined, feeling overwhelmed.

Ed pulled his tongue away just long enough to reassure the older man.

"We're literally in a bath." He supplied, "You're good and clean, so don't worry and just enjoy it."

And then he dived back in, fucking Roy with his tongue and one finger as Roy gasped and blushed and freaked out a little and his stomach twisted into pleasured knots at how good and wet it felt as Ed tongued him and dribbled warm saliva all over his hole. So much that it dripped down over his balls and leaked into the bath water. Hell, it was dirty in the best sense of the word, and by the time he had worked another finger into him Roy was half hard again and filling out quickly, pushing back against the fingers and tongue with needy, pitched grunts of pleasure.

"Edward!" He huffed, almost angrily, getting impatient to feel the other man's cock sliding into him. He was sure Edward couldn't keep preparing him forever – the man had needs of his own, right? He'd been hard ever since the restaurant, just like Roy had, but without the helpful hand of having already finished once.

"Alright." Ed agreed, pulling his tongue from Roy's hole and sounding raw-throated and just as needy. "I'm gonna fuck you now." He promised.

Roy felt the other man's fingers being pulled from him, and felt his arse-cheeks being spread apart by the blonde's thumbs, and then the blunt head of Ed's cock was being pushed against his saliva-slick hole and he showed his appreciation through a long, loud moan as Edward pushed inside him in one constant push until his balls were slapping up against Roy's from behind.

"Yesssss." Roy hissed, and Ed placed a simple kiss to his back, between his shoulder blades, with the mouth that had just been _eating him out_ , and began to fuck him properly.

"Ah, fuck, yes, oh, fuck." Roy chanted as Edward trust into him, building up waves that crashed around them and pushing Roy's knees forwards against the slippery porcelain of the tub.

A slick slap of skin on skin reverberated off the bathroom walls, echoing around them until all Roy could hear was his own harsh breaths, his broken pleas and swears, and the dirty sound of lapping waves and Ed fucking him hard and fast. His hole felt fucked out in seconds, but Ed didn't slow his pace, and kept Roy right on the edge of way too much for so long that eventually his vision faded out, leaving him with intense white he closed his eyes against. And when Ed reached around him to give some attention to his dick it took all of three strokes before he was screaming as he came again; this time the pathetic spurts of dribble-like, thin semen of balls that did not have enough time to build a good amount.

Ed shouted incoherently into his back, resting his forehead between Roy's shoulder blades as he continued to hammer into Roy.

"Fuck you feel so good when you come." He breathed, hips faltering in their rhythm in a sure-fire sign that he was close.

"Come on Ed," Roy encouraged, wincing at the over-sensitivity of riding out two orgasms and still being fucked. "Come inside me. Fill me up." He demanded.

Ed gave a very broken sound as his hips stuttered forwards and hot ropes of thick spunk spurted into Roy, leaving the older man feeling dizzy at the feel of it. Ed's hands on his hips were physically shaking, and Roy realised his whole body was shuddering too. A moment later Ed groaned as he pulled out and a load of come gushed from Roy, landing in the water with an indecent noise that had Roy flushing and quickly sitting down into the waves to stop it from happening again. Ed kissed the back of his neck.

"I love you." He mumbled there. Roy smiled at the taps.

"Good." He replied, "Because you're definitely going to have to carry me up to bed."

* * *

**Thirteen Months Later**

"Have we unpacked the jumpers yet? It's freezing in here, I can't get the bloody heating to work."

"We haven't even unpacked the toothbrushes yet."

Edward scowled across the room to Roy, who wasn't looking at him, so didn't feel the brunt of Ed's wrath. It wasn't as if what Roy had said was entirely untrue. They had only moved in to the house the day before, and already it had been one disaster after another. He and Roy had put their toiletries in an overnight bag, but Sasha and Maesie had stupidly packed theirs in boxes and not labelled which ones they were in. Sasha had then proceeded to fight with Ed the evening before about why he had to brush his teeth at all, which had ended in Ed spreading toothpaste on his finger and wrestling that finger into his eight year old son's mouth, rubbing it all over his teeth. There were still bite marks on Ed' fingers from the experience and Roy had rubbed in the words 'choose your battles' at least six times since the event, and regularly reminded Ed of the fact that they still hadn't found the brushes.

Then, instead of toothbrushes and cosy jumpers, there was a litter of boxes in their new living room all containing fairy lights, tinsel, and baubles.

"Who moves house the day before Christmas Eve, anyway." Ed grumbled as he kicked a box containing a wreath out of his way to get to Roy. The Fuhrer was currently attempting to untangle lights and put them on the large tree he and Havoc had felled earlier that day. He turned and grinned at Ed, but didn't answer: because they both knew the answer was 'idiots'.

"Come help me untangle these, will ya?" Roy asked, holding up a particularly knotted bundle of soft yellow lights. Ed nodded distractedly, stepping into Roy's space to get a hold of them, and yelped a little when the Fuhrer caught him up in a tangle of lights used like a lasso, and pulled him forwards into a sensual kiss.

"EW!" A little voice shouted from the doorway to the living room. "Maesie stay upstairs! Dad and Roy are making out again!" Sasha warned his sister.

Ed untangled himself from Roy to shoot his son a teasing look.

"Oh, is it 'ew' to kiss the person you love?" He asked, putting on an affronted look. "It's love, Sasha, _love_. You understand love. You just wanna kiss and cuddle and call each other stupid pet names _all the time_. Are you gonna deny me my right to call this man my gorgeous shnookums? I would never deny you the right to kiss _your_ boyfriend!"

Sasha went a very deep shade of red very, very quickly.

"That's not… I don't… I'm _never_ kissing anyone. Ever!" He promised, stumbling over himself in his attempt to retreat and storming back up the stairs away from his embarrassing parent.

Ed chuckled after his retreating form, and Roy sighed.

"You're going to give him a complex." He warned. Ed grinned back at him.

It had been on Sasha's eighth birthday, almost eight months ago, that he had proclaimed the only person he wanted to have at his party was Jean Havoc, on the basis of he was definitely going to marry the man. After Edward had calmed down from the utter shock (and the uncontrollable laughter at the look on Havoc's face when he had told the man Sasha's intentions) it had turned into a point of leverage. Ed wasn't worried about the situation – at the time Sasha had proclaimed it Ed had only just agreed to Roy's continued attempts at proposals, so weddings were on everybody's mind – and to a just eight year old all he saw was two men who were good friends wanting to do something to celebrate that. His proclamation that he would marry Havoc made sense when put into the context that Sasha had always monopolised the chain-smoker's time, and Havoc was usually more than happy to give it.

It was puppy-love at best; a friend-crush that Sasha didn't understand the complexities of. Over the last few months Sasha had grown up a lot, and between school and his parents the intricacies of a marriage, and boyfriends, and girlfriends, and _love_ had all been explained to him; and now he was mortified that he had ever said aloud that he would be marrying the much older man. The kid was desperate to avoid the topic of love, and especially love and _Havoc_ , all together, but Ed was far too much of a shit-bag parent for that. He was still trying to get revenge for the time Edward and Roy had taken both children to the very fancy Cretan restaurant on Sea Lane, and Sasha had taken himself to the toilet and on the way back announced to the entire restaurant that his constipation was finally over. Made worse by the fact that some stupid journalist had decided it was a slow news day the next day and wrote it up in the Gazette.

"How is Havoc, by the way? I feel like we haven't seen him in weeks." Ed asked. Roy, who had spent the morning with the other man, shrugged his shoulders.

"Same as always I guess. He got dumped again recently. Just before Christmas as well… so he's a little depressed." He explained, then shrugged. "So maybe Sasha's in with a chance after all."

"Who's giving him a complex now?" Ed shot back, crossing his arms over his chest with a fond smile.

No more could be said on the subject because at that moment the doorbell went and Maesie came hurtling down the stairs in an attempt to be the first to answer it, her brother trailing behind her and still looking somewhat flushed. Ed would never understand his children's needs to answer the door, but as he came out in to the hallway Maesie was opening the front door to reveal Alphonse and Mei, who was holding a chubby little dark haired baby who had the dominant Elric golden eyes.

"Hello Maesie." Alphonse signed to her. Maesie signed back, and then made impatient grabby hands for her cousin. Mei gently placed the eleven month old into her arms, and giggling, Maesie and Sasha took their cousin to play.

"Be gentle!" Edward called after them. Alphonse stepped into the house looking around the unpacked boxes in the hall and the tinsel that Roy had already wrapped around the stair banister.

"Looks festive!" He exclaimed, and then from behind his back he produced a hefty cat carrier and winked at his brother. "What do you think?"

Ed peered through the mesh window at the front to see a beautiful little fluffy white kitten staring back at him with slightly mistrusting eyes. He put his fingers to the mesh and she gave a pathetic little squeak. She was gorgeous.

"He's gonna fall in love with her in about three seconds and pretend he hasn't for three years." He told his brother. "He never stopped going on about the cat Freya had."

Alphonse, as a fellow cat enthusiast, nodded solemnly. Edward straightened up and ruffled his hair. Some months prior Alphonse had shown up on the doorstep and demanded he wanted to go fishing with Roy, and ever since then the awkwardness that had been between them had disappeared. Ed had attempted to niggle both Roy and Al about what had happened on that fateful trip, but both were tight lipped, and simply told him that they had found common ground. Ed was convinced that common ground was cats, since not long after Alphonse had told Ed he planned on getting Roy a kitten for Christmas, and today he came through on that promise.

"Honestly, you're gonna be his favourite brother-in-law."

Al's protests that he was Roy's only brother-in-law were drowned out by Roy, still tangled in lights, stepping out into the hallway.

"He's already my favourite brother-in-law." He attempted to smooth-talk.

Alphonse grinned, stepped forward and presented his gift. It was technically a day early but no one thought it was a good idea to try and wrap the poor kitten. Ed had the singular pleasure of watching Roy's face morph from confused to quietly hopeful as he took in the cat carrier, spotted the fluffiness inside, and came to the conclusion, from context, that the cat was likely for him. He turned to Alphonse with slightly wider than normal eyes, looking like the cute little sub Ed alone knew him to be.

"No way." He mumbled, and Alphonse winked at him.

"Merry Christmas!" He grinned. Roy took in a very deep breath, and reached for the cat carrier, and then at the last minute grabbed Alphonse and pulled him in for a hug.

"Thank you." He gulped.

Alphonse sent Ed a wide-eyed look over Roy's shoulder, but patted him on the back nonetheless. A moment later Sasha and Maesie had run back into the hall from the back room, supporting their cousin between them in a way that probably wasn't safe. He glanced quickly at Mei to see if she was concerned about the two older kids manhandling her baby, but she just laughed at their antics.

"Someone got a gift early?" Sasha asked. Roy, with the cat carrier now in his arms, smiled down at the three of them.

"Ed, put some coffee on." He ordered, and then addressed the children. "Who wants to help me name a cat?"

Ed watched as Roy took three very excited kids back into the box filled room with a half decorated tree, carrying the basket with their newest addition to the family, and felt a peaceful contentedness. He ushered Al and Mei into the kitchen at the back of the house, and busied himself putting the kettle on whilst his guests sat down at the island. The new house was huge, thanks in part to Roy's massive salary. He couldn't deny that the long nights Roy spent in the office and the sometimes seven-day-working-weeks had been stressful over the last year, but after months of planning and organising they had finally managed to amalgamate their households and were going to at least be working out of the same base. They would celebrate Christmas in their new home, and had even set a date for the wedding in the next year. It felt as if they were finally working towards their happy ending.

He placed two steaming mugs of coffee down in front of his brother and Mei.

"Thought you only wore that for public events." Al teased, tapping at the gold and diamond engagement ring on his finger and raising one eyebrow. "And even then it's _ironic_ , right?" He added with a shit-eating grin.

Ed flushed a little, sitting down opposite them at the island with his own mug and looking at the solitaire Roy had presented him with nine months prior. He had told Al he only wore it ironically, and when he needed to put on his 'first lady' attitude, but he couldn't deny he did also just kind of like it. He shrugged his shoulders in lieu of a response, and was saved further teasing by the kitchen door, which lead to the large back garden, opening.

They all looked around to see a striking Xingese woman entering. Ming-Yue was the most changed of all of them in the last few months. Fuhrerhood had meant Roy had gained a couple of pounds in happy-weight. Having a second pair of hands around to help with the kids meant the bags under Ed's eyes had managed to recede a bit. Mei was back to being the stick-thin petite lass she had been before pregnancy, and Alphonse had finally given up on the cane and admitted he could walk perfectly well without it. But Ming-Yue had completely transformed.

Her previously buzz-cut hair had grown out and was kept in a neat, thick bob. Her black thigh-highs had been replaced with a ballet-pumps, and her short cheongasm dresses had been replaced with sash-neck cream jumpers and straight legged black trousers. She looked less thin, healthier, and much less angry. She waved at them as she entered, and there, following behind her, was a tiny Xingese girl with long wavy dark hair and large black eyes, who was clinging on to the back of her mother's trousers and looking shyly around the room.

"Hi Jia." Ed smiled at her, and she startled a little at being spoken to. "The kids are all in the lounge with Roy. There's a cat." He told her.

She nodded, without saying a word, and with one look at Ming-Yue, who smiled down at her and nodded her approval, she excused herself in a high-pitched voice, with a little bow, and moved through the kitchen towards where Ed could hear Maesie giggling happily.

"How's she holding up?" Mei asked after her, addressing Ming-Yue. The ex-bodyguard sat down next to Ed and stole his coffee, taking a sip before passing it back.

"She still calls me Aunty Ming." She supplied, "and learning Amestrian has been difficult for her. But she is strong."

"Like her mother." Ed supplied. Ming-Yue nodded back at him, with no worries about coming off as immodest.

They still had a long way to go, but looking around the kitchen of his new home, surrounded by friends and family and listening to his fiancé entertaining his children, he finally felt like they were in the right place at the right time.

Together, in the East.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 5/20 Everyone! 
> 
> One year ago on this day I published the first chapter of Conversations, and although 5/20 kind of sneaked up on me this year, I grafted through all of yesterday and today and I am happy I was able to end it like this, on this day. 
> 
> Don't worry, this verse still has more instalments to come, one of which will fill in the gaps between Roy becoming Fuhrer and the snippet of 13 months later we saw here. But again I feel it needs to be in a different style, exploring different themes, and thus is a story all of its own. 
> 
> Also, GOOD NEWS. Although we do have to move out of our current house the school have offered us a different, slightly smaller house three doors down. So I get to stay living with my husband, and don't need to give up my job, move two counties over and put up with being a twenty-six year old living with their parents! We have a couple of months to pack our things but this might be the easiest move we've ever done since it's literally just down the road. 
> 
> In general, I can't even begin to say how moved and thankful I've been over the last week of responses I've had from all the wonderful comment leaving lovelies about our housing situation, and I just want to say how much I have appreciated everyone's kind words. I am so glad to be able to update you all with the good news! 
> 
> And again, I'm gob-smacked by how many people have loved East - and once I've decided which instalment to publish next, I should get the first chapter of that up fairly soon. Thanks so much for everything,
> 
> Yours, 
> 
> Od


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